by Jillian Hart
“This man has the skill to save the mare.”
Marie peered around the corner. Henry stood with his back to her, proud and commanding. Night Hawk knelt in the shadows of the large foaling stall, where a mare thrashed with terror.
“Colonel,” Night Hawk said quietly. “I need this man out of the stall. He’s frightening her.”
“She’s just being stubborn, that’s all. Making a big fuss out of nothing.” The stable master, a stick-thin captain with a hard face, snapped a riding crop at the mare’s flank.
Night Hawk caught the strap before it could strike. The slap against his palm reverberated in the rafters, but no pain registered on his granite face. “Out. Before I take you out myself.”
“Get out of here, Hooper,” Henry barked.
The lesser officer grumbled but released the riding crop and climbed through the wooden rails. “No-good horse if you asks me. Won’t be alive by morning anyhow.”
Night Hawk tossed the riding crop down, letting the man’s viciousness roll off him. He was quiet, his touch and voice a comfort the panicked mare understood. The horse made one final turn around the pen, then stopped before the man who commanded her. Her skin snapped, wave after wave of nervous ripples. She sidestepped, and Marie saw the splash of blood along her flanks where she’d been struck.
The mare was in labor. How could anyone strike her? The poor animal looked to Night Hawk for reassurance. She sidestepped again, fighting to stand, flicking her tail and whinnying.
Night Hawk’s confidence, as quiet as the wintry night, changed the atmosphere in the entire stable. Tension melted away and the mare calmed. She lowered her head and leaned against his chest, trusting.
“She’s fighting to stay up.” Henry sounded worried. “She’s a damn fine saddle horse and I’d hate to have anything happen to her.”
“She’s young and this is her first foal. She’s frightened.” Night Hawk laid his hands on her heaving sides. “You should have had someone come for me earlier, Henry. We’ll do our best and pray that she is strong enough.”
Brushed by lantern light and half-hidden by shadow, Night Hawk walked the mare and soothed her until finally she collapsed onto the fresh bed of straw he’d made for her. She fought, her legs thrashing dangerously. Night Hawk’s touch was like enchantment, and the mare allowed him to hobble her.
Marie remained crouched in the aisle against the wall as the hours passed. As the mare’s sharp neighs rang through the growing silence. It was as if the entire night held its breath waiting for birth or death.
Marie had never seen anything like Night Hawk’s patience. He stroked the mare’s flank in endless comfort. As the hours passed, the tenderness in his voice never wavered. The mare’s pain increased as she thrashed and kicked her hobbled legs. Bright blood gleamed in the flickering light.
As the mare released a shuddering breath and the first gray light of dawn spilled through the slatted boards, Night Hawk pulled a foal’s wet pair of hooves and nose into view.
He tore the sack, his voice changing as he greeted the new life. The mare didn’t move, and Marie wept. Seconds ticked by as Night Hawk brought the foal into the world with the strength in his powerful arms. It was his kindness that made the foal collapse trustingly on Night Hawk’s knee. The mare stirred and gently nuzzled her new baby.
“You saved them both.” Henry spoke from the shadows.
“No. She’s a fighter.” Night Hawk stroked his hands over the foal’s beautiful head.
Never had she seen anything as amazing as this one man.
The winter sun fought the thin layer of clouds that occasionally shifted fine snow onto the land. No wind blew, and the earth felt still, as if asleep. The great silence of the forest spoke to him and reminded him that there was a cycle to life. Birth and death, winter and spring, and there was awe in both.
He felt good. Exhausted, but good. When he’d left the stable, the dam and foal were both healthy and feeding. The colonel had complimented him again and invited him to his fine house for supper.
Marie had been absent and, while that troubled him, he had enjoyed talking with the colonel. Feeling the man’s renewed respect for him felt like a victory.
He’d known the man was a fine colonel and his far-thinking policies had brought harmony to this land. But sitting at a man’s table and being treated like an equal was a different thing entirely. He harbored a new, deeper respect for the colonel.
He spotted the tracks leaving the main road onto the forest path. Only one person he knew rode his shortcut along the lakeshore.
Marie. Hope beat within him as he followed Kammeo’s hoofprints through the ancient forest to the clearing where weak sun shimmered on the snow like stars fallen to earth. It hurt his eyes to look into the brightness, but he was rewarded by the sight of a flaming red mare racing back and forth along the shore.
A swirl of gray and blue caught his gaze. Marie ran and slid on the thick ice. Her scarf fringe and her wavy dark brown hair danced behind her as she twirled. Her merry laughter trilled as sweet as a goldfinch’s song and warmed him like nothing else could on this frigid morning.
“Night Hawk!” She spun breathlessly, her cheeks rosy from the cold. “I didn’t hear you.”
“Shadow and I tiptoed through the snow.” He almost laughed when she did. Why did simply looking at this woman fill him with joy? “A lot of women would be afraid of falling through the ice.”
“The stable boy told me he and a friend had been out ice fishing, so I figured it was safe.” Her feet flew out from under her and she crashed to the ice, spinning on her backside. She laughed again. “I was waiting for you. Come, help me up.”
“No.” He dismounted. “I see that sparkle in your eye. You want to pull me down with you.”
“Never.” She laughed when he stepped onto the ice. She held out her hands, and the moment they touched, longing speared through him. How sweet she felt. How passionate.
She came into his arms as if they’d never parted. Many obstacles stood between them, but he no longer cared. He’d found his heaven, and he was never going to let her go. Their kiss was magic, like winter wind and passion. He drew her hard against him and drank of her. She opened to him, heated velvet and desire, and he couldn’t get enough.
He broke away breathlessly, wanting to love her with every tenderness he knew.
She smiled at him, teasing lighting her up. She dashed off, slipping and sliding on the dazzling ice. “Bet you can’t catch me.”
“Beware. Warriors of the Hawk clan are swift of foot.” He took off after her, his winter moccasins gripping the ice. The specially tanned buckskin gave him an advantage over her fancy boots and he outpaced her easily.
“Hey, that’s not fair! Your legs are longer.” Laughing, she grabbed his arm and they went down together, spinning freely. He cushioned her fall with his body, pulling her between his thighs as they whirled to a stop.
He pulled her across his chest. How good it felt to be with her! Kissing her tenderly, he held back the pounding drive to love her intimately. To make her his once again.
“I saw you in the stable last night.” He brushed dark locks from her face. “You could have come closer. It must have been cold there in the draft near the door.”
“Papa would have sent me back to the house.” Her chin lifted, pure fight and determination and all woman. “He doesn’t believe the young lady he’s raised me to be should see the real side of life.”
“Maybe he feared frightening you.”
“It was beautiful. The struggle of birth.” She leaned her cheek against his chest and hugged him tight. “It made me think about a lot of things. About how fragile life is. How easily lost. And the beauty that can be made from love.”
“I doubt the stallion had love on his mind, shaylee.” He kissed her brow, knowing full well what she meant but could not say. The truth was too intimate, and he let himself think of what it would be to make a child with her. To watch her grow round with their baby. Wh
at a gift that would be, one they gave to each other.
“I have to get back,” she apologized, holding on to him more tightly. “Papa has a thousand things for us to do for the Winter Ball. I told him I didn’t know a fort on the frontier could have a ball. I thought those were reserved for fancy mansions farther east, but he scowled at me. He doesn’t always have the best sense of humor.”
“No, but he is a fine man. And he wants to display his beautiful daughter in front of the best in the countryside.” He kissed her once, twice. “I do not blame him.”
“Will you come?”
Her face filled with longing. How could he say no? “You would dance with me in front of everyone?”
“All night long.” She took his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet. She wobbled a little.
He pulled her to his chest. “Are you all right?”
“Just dizzy.” She rubbed her brow. “I guess I twirled too much.”
“Then I should see you home.”
“Whose home? Mine or yours?”
“Which do you want it to be?”
“Yours, Night Hawk.” She didn’t know what the future held for them, but one thing was certain. No man could drive her to such heights of joy and to such depths of confusion as this warrior who stood before her.
It didn’t matter what happened next, whether he could believe in her love or not. If their love ended with the winter or lasted forever. All that mattered was this moment and this man.
His grip on her elbow held her steady as she stepped onto solid ground.
“You look far too pale, shaylee.” His kiss grazed her temple. “I will take you to my bed another time. Now you need to rest alone in yours.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” He lifted her onto Kammeo’s back. “Should I ride behind you?”
“Yes.” Not because she was so dizzy, but because she wanted him against her.
Heaven couldn’t feel this good, she decided, as he settled behind her. The glory of his hard chest, the luxury of his steely arms, the cradling strength of his thighs thrilled her.
She only felt dizzier as he kissed her hair. Don’t think about the future, she told herself. Sunlight glimmered like a thousand diamonds in the meadow and lit up the snow-heavy trees in the forest.
But the brightness felt dark next to the brilliance of love in her heart.
“Are you still feeling sickly, Marie?” Henry hesitated in the parlor, dressed in his best black suit. “You look as pale as a sheet.”
“I’m starting to feel better,” she lied as she slipped into her warmest winter coat.
She’d been fighting on and off a light case of the grippe since final examinations, when all her students were either sniffling or queasy. “I’m not used to these bitter winds, I guess.”
“Then you should try staying out of them and off that half-wild horse of yours,” Henry scolded, but his heart wasn’t in it, not tonight. “Is my beautiful escort to tonight’s ball ready?”
“Oh, Papa.” She grabbed her fur muff from the coat tree. “Don’t try to charm me. It’s not going to work.”
“But I think you are beautiful.” He was looking like a proud father again, and she couldn’t despise him for it.
“Compliment me all you want,” she warned, not fooled and delighted at the same time. “I’m not dancing with Major Gerard, so stop your scheming.”
“I’m just eager to be a grandpapa, that’s all.” He opened the door for her. “You can’t blame a man for that.”
“I can.”
The biting wind knifed through her clothes and she was shivering by the time she made it to the bottom step. Ice sheened the path and she was grateful when Henry offered his arm. Her party shoes weren’t made for winter walking.
The enormous log building that usually served as the soldiers’ dining quarters lit up the night. Boughs of holly and fir encircled the posts at the front, and candles flickered against the dark snow to light the path to the door.
Inside the hall smelled like hot cider and eggnog, evergreen and cigars, and a handful of soldiers sang carols to accompanying string and brass players, not quite in tune.
“Colonel!” Ned met them with two fresh cups of eggnog. “Marie, why don’t you come with me? I’d wager half my month’s paycheck that your father is going to push us together anyway.”
“I hate to encourage him, Ned.”
“Go on, Marie. You two kids have some fun.” Henry gave a little wink. “The band’s starting a new song just right for dancing.”
Marie earned a warning look from Henry, and she laughed. She let the major lead her away. “You’re only making matters worse, Ned. Look at him grinning from ear to ear.”
“He’ll figure it out soon enough.” Ned led her to a table where his jacket hung over the back of one chair, and pulled out a second chair for her. “I tried to argue with him, but he issued an order. I have to look after you tonight.”
“But you’re not on duty.”
“You know the colonel.” Ned didn’t seem upset about it as he helped her settle into her chair. “I decided not to argue because I could use some help.”
“With what? Name it.”
“With her.” Ned gestured subtly to the left through the crowd.
Marie saw a young woman seated with the Meyers family. One of her students, little Gretta Meyers was talking earnestly to the pretty blond stranger. “I don’t know who she is, but I bet you do.”
A rogue’s smile changed Ned’s good looks to something breathtaking. “Her name is Claudia Heintzelman, and she’s Claus Meyers’s sister.”
“Married sister?”
“Widowed sister come to live with him.” Ned nodded once, as if he were sure, gazing at the fragile woman, that he’d found his heart. “I can’t go up there and introduce myself. She’ll reject me.”
Realization dawned. “You want me to talk her into dancing with you.”
“It’s a start.” Longing showed on his face.
Marie knew what that felt like. “Fine. Come with me and I’ll see what I can do.”
“I’d owe you my future happiness.” He stood, holding out his arm.
Night Hawk felt many curious gazes as he entered the hall. The melody and harmony of the music warred with the sharp din of conversations. Everyone had turned out in their best, from uniformed officers to modestly dressed farmers and their wives.
He was late. His gaze found her immediately amid the sea of people. She wore a shimmering red gown that sparkled almost as much as she did. Laughter touched her face as she whirled in the arms of an army officer he didn’t know. Jewels glimmered at the base of her slender throat, but her beauty shone more precious than those rare gems. Her beauty came from within and nothing he’d seen in his life could compare.
He was at her side before he realized it, taking her hand from the young sergeant’s and pulling her into his arms. She came to him like spring on the wind, quietly, radiantly, and snuggled against him.
They moved together to the white man’s music, a rise and fall of slow concordant notes. Not the joyful rhythm of his people’s music, but this had its advantages. Holding Marie so tightly in public, smelling the wildflowers in her hair and feeling her breasts against his chest made him proud.
He wanted to shout the truth of their love loud enough for the entire world to know, for it to ring in the air and the wind and across the hills. But she clung to him tightly as if to say, Never let go.
He wouldn’t. Life came with few certainties, and he’d come here tonight to let her know. Time was slipping away each day. Time that belonged to them.
Chapter Thirteen
Night Hawk woke to the new day long before dawn came. The memory of holding Marie in his arms lingered. How proud he’d been dancing with her last night. Others had cut in wanting to hold her, and he’d always taken her back. She was his heart, and he would fight for her always.
As Night Hawk forked hay into the rows of stalls, he missed
his father more than ever. He needed his advice and guidance. How do I prepare for a wife, he would ask his father if he were here.
Build her a lodge. He could almost hear the answer on the wind. Build her a lodge in the way of our people.
Maybe it would be a fine log house, the best he could make, but it would be in the old tradition. Meant not to show wealth but to provide a home for his wife and later his children. A place for happiness and love.
Yes, that is where he would start. Determined, he grabbed his best ax and headed into the forest.
Marie woke late feeling exhausted. She’d danced into the early hours of morning in Night Hawk’s arms, and part of her was still soaring. The other part of her couldn’t get out of bed.
The floor creaked in the hallway. She heard Henry’s heavy gait on the stairs.
Henry wasn’t one to tolerate sleeping in. Marie dragged herself out of bed and grabbed her housecoat. Getting dressed felt like too much effort. Maybe she’d feel better after a cup of coffee and toast.
The floor tilted under her feet, and she held the banister tight all the way down the stairs.
“Marie, you look pale. I know you arrived home terribly late last night.” Henry sounded disapproving. “I ought to speak to Ned, but I’m sure you two had a good time—”
“Papa, I don’t want to talk about Ned.” Her stomach clamped hard. She wasn’t feeling well. Not at all. She raced through the kitchen and out the door.
“Marie? Are you all right?” The privy door rattled as Henry pounded on it.
What was Henry doing? Standing there listening to her wretch? Head pounding, she leaned her forehead against her crossed arms in misery. “Go back inside. It’s cold out here. You’ll freeze to death waiting for me.”
“I’m going to make Ned pay for letting my daughter stay out so late. You’ve caught the grippe that’s going around, haven’t you?” Papa sounded furious. “Let me in, Marie.”