“I would love nothing more than to go to bed here tonight with you,” Flame said, setting her empty wineglass aside. She reached over and took White Fire’s hands in hers. “Darling, I have something that needs saying.”
“Has something happened you haven’t told me about?” White Fire asked, seeing the seriousness of her expression.
“Yes, something else has happened,” Flame said, swallowing hard. “It’s about Song Sparrow and Dancing Star.”
A quick fear leaped into his dark eyes. “What about them?” he said, his eyes searching hers. “I see that what you are about to tell me is not good or you would not look so guarded and be so hesitant about telling me.”
He brushed a hand through his thick hair. “Do not tell me that both Song Sparrow and her daughter are dead,” he said.
“No, not both of them,” Flame said, swallowing hard. “Only one.”
“The child?” he said, a quick panic leaping into his eyes.
“No, the child’s mother,” Flame quickly corrected.
White Fire’s breath caught in his throat. “Song Sparrow is dead?” he breathed out.
“Yes,” Flame said, hesitating at telling him how. Then she blurted it out to get it over with. She saw how knowing the way that Song Sparrow had killed herself made him cringe.
“But there is more that I haven’t yet told you,” she rushed out, knowing that she had no choice but to tell him about Dancing Star now.
“What else can there be to say about it?” he said, sighing heavily.
She hurried through the explanation about Dancing Star, and how the child had been given to him to raise.
“Chief Gray Feather did that?” he gasped out. “He gave up his granddaughter to me?”
She further explained about why the chief had made his decision to leave Dancing Star with him.
White Fire rose from the chair and went to a window, drawing back a curtain to stare out into the darkness. “I can hardly believe the chief’s logic, but, by damn, I will gladly take the child,” he said, his voice drawn. “And tomorrow? I will go for my son.”
He turned and went back to Flame. He took her hands and drew her from the chair. “Does any of this change how you feel about our plans for marriage?” he asked, searching her eyes.
“Why would it?” she asked, her eyes innocently wide.
“You will be marrying a man who has two children,” he said softly. “When it was just my son, you were willing to marry me. Now that there is also Dancing Star, and you will be the mother of two children instead of one, does that make you hesitate at all about marrying me?”
Flame flung herself into his arms. “Nothing could ever change my mind about marrying you,” she murmured. “I shall be the best mother ever to the children. I love children.”
“Tomorrow we shall find us a preacher and speak vows that will make us a true family,” White Fire said. He wove his fingers through her hair and drew her lips to his.
Then they pulled apart from one another. “Let us go now to my home,” White Fire said, offering a hand to Flame. “I believe someone awaits us there.”
Flame took his hand. Without looking back at the comforts that she would be leaving behind forever, she went down the stairs and outside into the moon-splashed night.
Again without looking back, she went with him to the stables and chose one of her most favored horses. It was a gift from her father last Christmas—a black stallion with white spots on its ears. She saddled it and handed the reins to White Fire.
“My gift to you,” she murmured. “For all the trouble my father has put you through, please take this gift and know that I am giving it to you from the bottom of my heart.”
He stepped up to the horse and ran his hands down is withers. “A lovely bridegroom price, I would say,” he said, laughing softly as he glanced over at Flame.
“Yes, a lovely bridegroom price,” she said, her eyes locking with his.
They floated into one another’s arms and shared a long and sweet kiss.
Then they rode from the fort, leaving so much unhappiness behind them.
But White Fire could not help but look over his shoulder and take one last look at the study where he had shared so much with his friend Josiah Snelling. He wished there was a way to thank the colonel for what he had done for him tonight.
Josiah, more than anyone else, had saved White Fire’s life.
Chapter 37
Oh, could the Fair, who this does see,
Be by this great example won,
And learn but thus to smile on me,
As they smile on the kissing sun!
—Richard Leigh
Soft kisses being feathered across her brow, and then her cheeks, awakened Flame. She sighed and lay there for a moment longer enjoying that it was White Fire who was giving her such soft, sweet kisses; that it was White Fire who was all right, and that he was with her now, for always.
When she felt his hands touch her naked breasts, her nipples quickly hardened against his palms, igniting all of Flame’s senses. She inhaled a quick breath of instant pleasure.
Fluttering her eyes open, she smiled up at White Fire, then gasped with rapture when one of his hands moved lower and he began to stroke the tender flesh where her desire was centered.
“I love you so,” she whispered, reaching her hands up to cradle his face in her hands. “Darling, kiss me. Please . . . kiss . . . me.”
She brought his face down to hers. Her lips trembled beneath his mouth as he gave her a meltingly hot kiss, his nude, bronze body sliding over hers. His swollen manhood heavy against her right leg, she was in awe again at its length and firmness.
As he moved his heaviness against her leg while his fingers continued to stroke her woman’s center, she writhed in response, soft moans repeatedly surfacing from inside her.
Drawing a ragged breath, she twined her arms around his neck and clung to his rock hardness. She gave herself up to the rapture as he continued kissing her with a fierce, possessive heat born of having thought for a while that they had lost each other forever.
The raging hunger built inside Flame. With the portion of her mind that was not stolen away by the heat of her passion, she thought of how wonderful it was to be there when it could have been so different. Had Colonel Edwards not arrived in time the prior evening....
No. She would not think of the possibilities.
She would only think of the wonders of having seen White Fire and Dancing Star together when they had arrived home. It had taken awhile to stir Dancing Star awake, so she could unlatch the door.
But when she had finally opened the door, White Fire’s and the child’s eyes had met. Then Dancing Star had so trustingly held her arms out for him. Nothing could have kept them apart.
White Fire had grabbed the child in his arms and held her as though she were a precious jewel.
Then later, when Dancing Star had fallen asleep in White Fire’s arms, Flame watched him place her onto the soft blankets and pelts on the floor before the gentle flames of the fire. Flame had known then that things would be all right.
And today he was going to get his son! Today there was going to be a wedding!
Extremely happy from the promise of the future, Flame’s thoughts merged now with her passion that was growing into a heated inferno. When she felt White Fire’s manhood probing her hot, moist place, she opened her legs more fully to him, and clung to him as with one insistent thrust he was inside her.
His mouth slid from her lips and fell over one of her breasts. As he rolled her nipple with his tongue, and he plunged deeply into her, withdrew and plunged again, she became mindless with bliss.
Again he sought her lips with his mouth. His hands took in the roundness of her breasts, gently stroking. He kissed her with an easy sureness, his hips rhythmically moving as he brought her closer and closer to a mind-exploding release.
His tongue brushed her lips lightly. Then he kissed her again. His body was on fire with the building ec
stasy. He groaned in whispers against her lips.
Cradling her close, his steel arms enfolding her, White Fire felt Flame’s hunger as she twined her fingers through his hair and brought his lips down hard on hers again.
As the pleasure built inside him, he fought to bring his breathing under control. He could tell that her cresting pleasure matched his by the way her fingers bit into the corded muscles of his shoulders.
Trembling, he reached a hand between them and found her warm and secret place. As he moved rhythmically within her, he caressed her damp valley, her woman’s center tight and large against the tips of his fingers.
Becoming almost crazed from the intense rapture that was overwhelming her, Flame ran her hands slowly down White Fire’s back, then clasped her fingers onto the taut muscles of his buttocks. She pressed him closer to her as she lifted her hips and met every demanding stroke.
A sensual tremor went through her body. It suddenly exploded in spasms of desire.
He buried his face between her breasts as his thrusts speeded up and went deeper and deeper.
She clung and rocked with him when she could tell that he had reached his own final throes of passion.
Then he kissed her again, his tongue parting her lips, the pulsing crest of their passion sought, found, and now subsiding.
Their tongues met and leaped together. His hands cupped her breasts. Their perspiration-laced bodies strained together.
Breathless, they finally broke apart and lay side by side, their eyes closed.
“If this is the way I will be awakened every morning, how can I sleep all night from anticipation?” Flame asked, turning to stretch out on her stomach. She rested her chin in her hands and gazed at White Fire. “Today everything will finally come together for us,” she murmured. “You are going to go and claim your son. We are going to be married. I can hardly believe it. It is too much like a dream since there were so many obstacles in the way of where we so badly wanted to be.”
“Yes, but nothing else can stand in our way,” he said, reaching over, stroking the soft flesh of her bottom.
“Dancing Star and I will wait anxiously for your return with Michael,” Flame said, shivering sensually when his fingers crept around and he stroked her where she was still wet, warm, and tender from lovemaking.
She closed her eyes. She giggled.
“But if you don’t stop that,” she said, her voice husky with need. “I doubt I shall ever let you out of this bed today.”
“Let’s go and see if our little darling is still asleep,” White Fire said, hopping from the bed.
Flame rolled from the bed and slipped into a loose dress, all the while watching White Fire’s exuberance as he finished dressing. She could see that he was accepting this new fatherhood with an open, loving heart.
She had worried about what his reaction would be that he had been given the child, and for what reason she had been handed over to him as though she were born of his flesh. Seeing his instant acceptance of Dancing Star, Flame realized just how much he loved children. She saw a future with him of many children. She had been too alone as a child. She saw the importance of the bonding of brothers and sisters.
Together, hand in hand, they tiptoed from the bedroom and went and knelt down beside the pallet on which Dancing Star still soundly slept.
“Doesn’t she look like an angel?” White Fire said, reaching over to gently slide locks of hair from Dancing Star’s eyes. “It’s so awful about her mother.”
“We will give the child so much love,” Flame whispered. Then she smiled at Dancing Star as the child awakened and found them both hovering over her.
Dancing Star wiped sleep from her eyes, then slowly rose from beneath the blankets. She moved almost automatically into White Fire’s arms and twined her tiny arms around his neck.
Flame winced when she saw tears splashing from Dancing Star’s eyes. She knew then that the child had not accepted her fate yet. She obviously sorely missed her mother, and the father taken from her not so long ago.
“Things will be all right,” White Fire said, softly stroking Dancing Star’s back through her buckskin dress. “Flame and I both love you, Dancing Star. And so will Michael.”
“Michael?” Dancing Star said, leaning back so that she could gaze into White Fire’s eyes. “Your little boy Michael?”
“Yes, my little boy Michael,” he said, laughing softly. “I am going to go and bring him home with me today. He will be your brother, Dancing Star. Would you like that?”
Dancing Star scrambled from his arms and reached down and grabbed the little wooden horse. “This is Michael’s,” she said, stroking the sleekness of the carved wood with her tiny fingers. “Do you think he will care if I share it with him?”
“Michael will be glad to share it with you,” White Fire said softly.
While he still talked and held Dancing Star, Flame got a good fire going in the fireplace. She then went to the kitchen and went through the food supplies and soon had breakfast ready for them.
After breakfast was over, White Fire gave them both a hug and left to go on another mission of the heart.
His strength fully regained, he rode toward Pig’s Eye. He would not take no for an answer today. He would not wait another day to have his son with him. Of late he had seen how quickly things in life could change. If he did not take the opportunity now to have his son with him, he might never have it.
As he rode beneath the bright sunlight, the breeze soft on his face, he thought back to the experiences of the past several days. Time and again Chief Gray Feather had proven his love for him, even after losing his daughter in such a traumatic way!
And this thing with Josiah Snelling! No one would ever be able to convince White Fire that it had not happened, that he had not come face-to-face with the ghost of the colonel.
He smiled as he recalled how Flame had said that even Colonel Edwards had been visited by Colonel Josiah Snelling’s ghost.
“Yes, he was here all right,” he whispered to himself. “But now maybe he can have his final, true rest, knowing that the massacre has been stopped—that Colonel Russell has been stopped!”
His thoughts were brushed aside when he rode into the outskirts of Pig’s Eye and the majestic Greer mansion came into view.
His insides tightened to think of having to face them again and argue for his rights to his son. But he would go to hell and back if it meant getting Michael in the end!
He slowed his horse to a slow lope as he turned onto the narrow lane that led to the Greer house. His eyes searched the windows for any signs of Michael, and he was disappointed when he saw him nowhere. He rode onward, then drew a tight rein before the house and dismounted.
His spine stiff, his throat dry, he swirled the reins around the hitching rail, then sucked in a deep breath for confidence and took the steep porch steps that led to the front door.
He did not even have to knock. The door opened suddenly.
Michael stepped out onto the porch and hugged White Fire’s legs.
Before he could reach down and take his son into his arms, Maureen Greer was there, a small valise in her right hand.
“He’s cried every day since your visit,” Maureen said emotionally. “Why didn’t you come sooner? We’ve been waiting.”
“You’ve been waiting?” White Fire said, forking an eyebrow. He gazed down at the valise, then into Maureen’s eyes. “I would have come sooner but things interfered.”
“Father, take me home,” Michael said, pleading up at White Fire with his dark, brown eyes.
“Yes, home,” White Fire said, sweeping his son into his arms, holding him close as Michael wrapped his arms about his neck.
He was stunned by how simple it was to take his son. Michael was being handed over to him so easily!
“Here’s some of his clothes,” Maureen said, tears streaming from her eyes. “Of course, I didn’t pack everything. There is too much. But I have packed his favorite things.”
Whi
te Fire gazed at Michael’s velvet suit, the white lacy collar hideously clinging at his throat, then he gazed down at the valise. “I don’t think we’ll be needing the clothes,” he said softly.
“But they are his favorite—”
“I doubt that,” White Fire said, chuckling.
Maureen set the valise down and stepped out onto the porch. She held her arms out for Michael. “Michael, please let me hold you one last time,” she said, her voice breaking. “Please give Mommie a hug.”
Michael turned his soft, wondering eyes at Maureen. Then he reached his arms out for her.
White Fire almost hesitated to allow his son to go to Maureen. Deep down inside he was afraid that she might change her mind.
But seeing her sincere hurt, he relinquished Michael to her this one last time.
As Maureen held and hugged Michael and whispered softly into his ear, White Fire looked past them and realized that George Greer had already left for work. And perhaps that was best. This way he would not have the sad, final farewell to Michael to work through. Such a good-bye caused a deep hurt, one that was too final.
Michael squirmed free of Maureen’s grip and jumped to the floor. He looked up at her with a soft pleading look. “I want to take my pony with me,” he said. “Please let me have my pony.”
White Fire looked quickly from one to the other, stunned that the child seemed to be begging for something that was already his.
“No,” Maureen said, stiffening her upper lip. She clasped her hands together before her. “I can’t allow you to have that . . . that . . . wild thing. I won’t be responsible for anything that might happen to you while riding it.”
“But it’s mine,” Michael cried. “It is a gift from my true father.”
White Fire’s lips parted, stunned that this woman could be so nice and cooperative one minute, and so ugly and stubborn the next.
“The pony belongs to Michael,” he said sternly. “I will go to the stable. I shall get it.”
“No, I can’t allow that,” Maureen said sharply. “Now if you want to take Michael with you, you’d best do it now, or by God, I will change my mind and fight you all of the way. But I won’t allow him on that . . . that thing. Do you hear? I won’t allow it.”
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