When Passion Calls

by Cassie Edwards

  Melanie drew away from Shane, looked up into his eyes again, and smiled. Then she turned to gaze warmly at Daphne. Deliberately, she tossed her bridal bouquet in Daphne's direction.

  Daphne's eyes lit up and she smiled widely as she caught the bouquet and hugged it to her chest.

  But there was a trace of sadness in her eyes as one hand slipped down to her stomach. Melanie was not the only one who was with child. The

  trapper had impregnated Daphne before she had been rescued.

  Laughing giddily, Melanie went to Daphne and hugged her. "Everything is going to be all right," she whispered. "One day you'll find a man who will give your child a father. Until then, you will share your child with me, Shane, and our child."

  Daphne draped an arm around Melanie's neck. "Mee-gway-chee-wahn-dum, thank you," she whispered. "You are so kind. I love you, Melanie."

  "I love you, too," Melanie whispered, then drew away from her and went to stand at Shane's side as people began to mill around them, offering a congratulatory handshake.

  Soon Melanie's jaws began to ache from her incessant smiling. She gave Shane occasional glances, seeing the radiance in his eyes, proof of his happiness.

  Then there was a thundering of hoofbeats outside. Melanie and Shane exchanged wondering glances, then moved, arm in arm, down the long corridor and outside onto the wide veranda that ran along the entire front of the mansion.

  Melanie's insides froze when she saw the mass of Indians on horseback who now stood motionlessly before the house, especially when she recognized Chief Gray Falcon among them.

  She welcomed Shane's possessive arm around her waist, recalling so vividly that night when she was abducted.

  "Gray Falcon, you are disturbing my wedding day," Shane said, looking his old friend over carefully. Gray Falcon wore his fanciest headdress

  of at least a hundred feathers tumbling down his back in a profusion of colors. His clothing was of white doeskin, bedecked with colorful beads and porcupine quills shaped in many colorful designs. He carried no weapon. His usual stoic expression showed something akin to friendship, his jaw and lips relaxed.

  "Why have you come?" Shane asked. "It has been many sleeps since I left my hair in your hand to prove that I no longer wanted any part of your life. I feel no different now."

  "I have come in peace, bearing many gifts," Gray Falcon said, nodding toward many horses that were being led toward Shane and Melanie. "My scouts brought me news of your wedding. The gifts are for your wedding. Please take them in friendship."

  Gray Falcon gestured toward a great strawberry roan that a brave was singling out from the rest. "Come, my brother," he offered Shane. "I give you my best horse! Get on his back with your woman and come with me to my village!"

  Shane's eyes narrowed as some Chippewa braves began securing the horses' reins to a hitching rail. "Remove the horses!" he shouted. He gestured with his free hand toward them as he stared coldly into Gray Falcon's eyes. "I need nothing from you anymore. Go. Your friendship comes too late."

  Chief Gray Falcon frowned and leaned over his pommel. "Gray Falcon was wrong about many things," he said in an almost whisper, his voice

  drawn. "Gray Falcon misses your companionship. Come home, Shane. We can have a new beginning!"

  "Can't you see that I am now married?" Shane said, squaring his shoulders. He drew Melanie close to his side. "This is my home." He looked down at Melanie, a softness in his eyes. "This is our home."

  Again he looked up at Gray Falcon. "Please go, Gray Falcon," he said thickly. "We have nothing else to say to one another. You are responsible for too much ugliness in my life. It is not easy to forget Cedar Maid. It is not easy to forget that you abducted my woman, or that you sent me away when I did not want to go!"

  "So you send me away?"

  "Yes. Now. Please leave."

  Chief Gray Falcon stared into Shane's eyes a moment. "Gah-ween-nee-nee-sis-eh-tos-say-non," he said, his voice a monotone. "Mee-suh-ay-oo!"

  Gray Falcon then wheeled his horse around and began riding away. He shouted to his braves for them to follow him, the horses trailing behind them.

  Shane watched, feeling as though a part of his heart was being torn in shreds, for he so wanted to join the braves. He so wanted to tell Gray Falcon that all was forgiven! He hungered for the hunt on horseback with his Chippewa companions! He hungered for the wigwam, and the feeling of freedom that living in such a simple way gave him.

  Shaking his head to clear his mind of such

  troubled thoughts, Shane turned his back to the departing Indians. He swallowed hard, then looked down at Melanie.

  His gut twisted strangely when he saw a look of knowing in her eyes. Had she truly read his thoughts only a moment ago? Did she know how badly he wanted to join the Chippewa, become a part of their lives again?

  But did she also know that if that ever could have been possible, she would still be a part of that life? She could live in that wigwam with him. She could bear their child there and sit by the fire, nursing him.

  "Darling, I think we should join our guests again," Melanie said, seeing something akin to torment in her husband's eyes. She knew what had caused it. Why had Chief Gray Falcon arrived today, of all days, to bring back memories that haunted Shane? To make him hunger for that which he could no longer have? Whyoh, why?

  "Yes, it would be best," Shane said, guiding her back into the house. The aroma wafting from the massive dining room was mouth-watering. "It is time to feed our guests, wouldn't you say?"

  "And then afterwards?" Melanie giggled, clinging to Shane as they moved into the back parlor. "What then, my darling husband?"

  "I have a surprise awaiting you, my darling wife," Shane said, smiling down at her.

  "What?" Melanie asked, her voice lilting.

  "It would not be a surprise if I told you, would it?"

  "Well, I guess not," Melanie said, laughing softly.

  The guests welcomed them, and then proceeded into the dining room. A Waterford crystal chandelier set off the large, airy room. A long, dark mahogany table was set with Sevres porcelain. Platter after platter with mounds and mounds of food were set along the table. There was marinated beef tenderloin, broccoli swimming in melted cheese, ham loaf baked with a tangy tomato sauce glaze, sweet potatoes, fresh rolls with butter, and jam and apple butter. Dessert was sitting on a sidetablepeach shortcake, Melanie's favorite.

  As everyone sat down at the table, they found a tall glass of lemonade besprigged with mint awaiting their pleasure. A string quartet played just outside on the lawn, the music wafting through the open windows with the gentle breeze as light and airy as the Liszt йtude that was being played.

  It was the end of a wonderful day. Melanie ate slowly as she gave Shane occasional glances. He seemed still in a sort of fog. She attributed that to Chief Gray Falcon. Was he now regretting that he had not accepted the chief's apology? Would he forever regret it? Would that overshadow their night filled with surprises and the promise of gentle lovemaking?

  She hoped not. One's wedding night came only once in a lifetime.

  Yet she knew that she would perhaps have to live under the shadow, always, of Shane's past. She

  had been foolish to think that he had totally left it behind.

  Everyone was gone. The night was like wide water, without sound. Shane swept Melanie up into his arms and began ascending the graceful, curved stairway with bronze rails and delicately turned balusters, also of bronze. As he looked at her, words were not necessary. He could see in her eyes and in the way her pulse beat at the hollow of her throat the excitement building within her over what was to come on their wedding night. Though they had shared many intimate moments before their wedding vows had been spoken, they still looked forward to this new sort of sharingthis sharing of a total commitment!

  ''Oh, Shane, I feel so sinful," Melanie said, clinging around his neck. Her hair drifted down behind her, almost touching the floor as she held her head back.

  "Sinf
ul?" Shane said, forking an eyebrow. "Why would you? We can now boast of being married!"

  Melanie's eyes gleamed into his as she straightened her back. "Darling, I know that we are married," she said, their eyes meeting and holding. "I feel sinful because I am so deliriously happy!"

  "Oh, I see," Shane said, chuckling. He stepped up on the second floor landing and began walking down the corridor that was lighted by soft flickering candles in wall sconces.

  Melanie's eyes flickered over the door that was usually Shane's as he passed it by. She looked back up at him. "Where are you taking me?" she asked. "Why aren't you taking me to your room?"

  "Be patient," Shane said, going to another room and nudging the door open with his shoulder. He stepped inside. The room was flooded with candlelight.

  Melanie's breath was stolen as he carried her on to a large bedroom that boasted a fourteen-foot ceiling. A carved double bed, canopied with white lace, stood in the middle of the room, while all around the room were deep, comfortable, thick-cushioned chairs and sofas.

  Off the room, Melanie could see something that made her want to cry. Shane had seen to it that the adjoining room had already been made into a nursery. She could see a baby's crib, gaily colored wallpaper, and an assortment of all the toys that a child could want!

  She looked up at him and placed a hand to his cheek. "Darling, darling . . ." she whispered, then sighed with pleasure as he laid her down on the bed, upon a layering of crisply-tailored sheets. She watched him begin to undress, then sat up on the bed and began matching him, removing her clothes piece by piece.

  When he joined her on the bed, she accepted him atop her. There were no preliminaries. He plunged himself inside her and began his slow strokes.

  "Shane, are you going to sleep with me at

  night?" she whispered, running her fingernails up and down his spine.

  Shane drew partially away from her, looking down at her with puzzlement. "You think that I wouldn't?" he said, his eyes darkening with emotion.

  "Well, I know how you feel about beds," Melanie said. "And this most certainly is a bed."

  "This is our bed," Shane corrected, brushing his tongue along her lower lip. "Never shall I let you sleep alone in it. Never."

  "But the pallet of furs?"

  "Gone. Just as Gray Falcon is gone."

  "Will you be happy without either?"

  "Very."

  "Then that is all that matters," Melanie said, sighing deeply.

  "Let us make love," Shane said, kissing the column of her neck lightly. "Let us share our feelings for one another with our child even as our child sleeps in your womb."

  "Yes, darling," Melanie whispered, shimmering with ecstasy as he resumed his sweet strokes within her. "Let us always share everything with our child. Then let's give our child a brother or sister as quickly as possible. No child should be raised alone."

  "Yes, brothers should love one another from their very beginnings," Shane said, then swallowed hard when his thoughts went to Josh, sad over his loss. "Perhaps we shall even have twins, Melanie."

  "That would be wonderful," she said, weaving her fingers through his hair, hearing the soft melancholy in his voice. "That would be wonderful."

  They held each other with exquisite tenderness. They made love slowly, wonderfully.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Seven Months Later

  Heavy with child, Melanie stood at the parlor window looking across quiet fields under skies the color of shadows, past fences hushed in snow, and at gullies mantled by the snow-laden branches of oaks and maples. The lane that led to the Brennan mansion was dusted with white and marked with the tracks of wooden wheels and horses; here and there fresh horse manure lay steaming in the chill morning air.

  Melanie hugged herself when snow began falling again, first in slow, soft swirls, and then in blizzard strength. She looked toward the herd of longhorns in the corral, barely visible through the haze of snow. As many as could stayed huddled together, close to the barn.

  But out on the range, those that weren't as

  fortunate were looking possible death in the eye each night. Some had not survived, the ones that weren't as strong having frozen solid in the cold blasts of winds that came like the wrath of God from the north. If the snow deepened and the temperatures lowered tonight, more deaths could be expected.

  Thus far there had been a record snowfall. At times, the yearling heifers had hopped over the fences like grasshoppers. The snowfall had caved in buildings. Sometimes the snow melted off the hay shed and slipped into the feeders.

  Melanie turned when she heard footsteps behind her. She smiled and welcomed Shane's embrace as he moved to her side to join her at the window. "Shane, the weather is worsening," she murmured, snuggling closer to him. "I'm worried about the cattle at both farms. The loss could be great if the snow gets worse and the temperature drops again."

  Shane looked past the cattle, up at the butte that stretched out into the dark depths of the forest. Though he was as concerned about the cattle as Melanie, he could not help but shift some of his concern to the Chippewa. In weather like this, when animals could freeze in their tracks, the Chippewa could suffer from starvation. He had seen it before, when a baby born in mid-winter could not survive because its mother's milk was not nourishing enough, because the mother had not eaten properly herself.

  It was surely the same now for the people that he loved. There had been too many snows, too many

  freezes! He was finding it hard to block out thoughts of how it must be in the Indian village even at this moment. He could see them huddled around a fire made of wood scraped from beneath layers of snow. He could see the leanness of the braves' bodies. He could see the longing, the hunger in their eyes.

  "I must go to them," Shane blurted out, suddenly swinging away from Melanie. He began walking away from her, his steps determined.

  Melanie turned and stared at him, not understanding. Them? Whom was he referring to? The cattle? He had never been this concerned before about them. He had done what was humanly possible to save them, and then had reconciled himself to the fact that losses could be expected. Everyone knew that the weather this winter had been the worst in years. No one expected to come out of it without losses.

  Melanie followed Shane from the room and stared in wonder as he slapped his gunbelt around his waist and fastened it, then grabbed his heavy, quilted buckskin jacket and jerked his arms into the sleeves.

  "Shane, where are you going?" Melanie asked, grabbing his hand. "What are you going to do?"

  Shane looked down at Melanie, suddenly realizing what he was doing without any thought for his wife, who was heavy with his child. He swallowed hard and placed his hands on her swollen abdomen. He smiled when he felt their child kick against his firm grip and then move slowly.

  Melanie placed her hands over Shane's and smiled up at him. "It won't be long now, darling," she said proudly. She laughed softly. "As much movement as there is, it could be twins. Yet my father said that I was an active child while within my mother's womb. Would you believe that he said I even kicked one of her ribs out of place?"

  "Yes, I believe that you would be as feisty and unpredictable even then," Shane said, running his hands over her round belly.

  His eyes shadowed in thought as he looked over his shoulder at the window, and his insides tightened when he saw the thick veil of snow that continued to fall.

  He looked down at Melanie again. "Darling, there is something that I need to do and it cannot include you," he said. "You must stay behind and protect our unborn child. Stay in the house and keep warm. Eat plenty of nourishing food. I will return in time to witness our child's birth."

  Melanie paled. She took a shaky step back from Shane. "What do you mean, you will return?" she said, her voice drawn. "Where are you going?" She looked toward the window and a shiver stung her when she saw the fierceness of the storm outside. She pleaded with her eyes at Shane. ''You can't." She slowly shook her head and place
d a hand to her mouth. "You can't be planning to . . ."

  She lunged into Shane's arms. "No!" she cried. "I won't let you! You can't travel to the Indian village in this weather." She drew away from him and studied the haunted look in his eyes. "Oh, God, that is where you plan to go, isn't it? I know how concerned you have been over the people at

  the Chippewa village. I know you fear for them. But, Shane, you just can't leave in this blizzard to go to them. What good would it do?"

  Again she crept into his arms and hugged him to her. "Shane, I thought you had forgotten your past," she cried. "You have seemed so content."

  Shane placed his hands to her shoulders and eased her away from him. "Never will they be entirely from my blood," he said. "Especially now, in their time of need." He looked at the window, hearing the bellow of the longhorns. "We have meat that could keep many of the Chippewa alive. We have milk for the babies! I must take it to them!"

  Melanie wiped tears from her eyes and choked back a sob. "But, Shane, what of me? What of our child?" she said, her voice breaking. "If you go out in that blizzard, I may never see you again! If you lost your way . . ."

  "Never would I lose my way," Shane said in a low growl. "Not even in the worst storm! Now let me pass and sort through our cattle and choose which of them I will take to the Chippewa." He placed a hand to Melanie's cheek, caressing her trembling chin with his thumb. "Our loss will also be our gain, darling. Our hearts will be at peace, always, remembering the lives that will be saved because of our gesture of friendship."

  Melanie sniffled and wiped more tears from her cheeks as she looked up into Shane's eyes. "You are such a compassionate man," she murmured. "You are so good." She crept back into his arms.

  "How can I deny you this that you ask of me when I know you are doing it from the goodness of your heart?"

  "Then I can go with your blessing?"