Chase huddled beside Claire next to the campfire. Every now and then, a spark would pop out of the fire and float up, as if trying to join the bright stars in the sky.
Claire had refused to stay in a hotel, even though there were plenty of decent places on the road between Paradise and Hupa. She’d claimed that since it was her honeymoon, she should choose her lodgings, and he should concede to her wishes.
He was only too happy to oblige. After all, sleeping under the stars was what they’d done since he met her.
But he’d drawn the line at eating roots and mushrooms. He took his knife and poked at the thick Parker Ranch steak that was roasting over the glowing coals.
Claire licked her lips.
“It's going to be a while,” he warned.
With a stick, Claire lifted the lid of the Dutch oven, peeking at the simmering stew of potatoes, onions, and carrots.
“So what do you eat in Hupa?” she asked.
He prodded the coals with a branch and said grimly, “Pine needle soup and boiled slugs.”
She laughed and punched his shoulder. “I don’t think your mother eats boiled slugs.”
“They’re her favorite.”
She laughed again, then grimaced. “If she truly eats boiled slugs, I’ll give them a try.”
He laughed at her pained expression, and then, taking pity on her, told her the truth. “We eat a lot of roasted salmon. Deer meat stew, blackberries, acorn bread.”
She smiled on a sigh and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I hope your parents like me.”
“They will love you, whililyo.”
“What about your sisters?”
He furrowed his brow. “My sisters may be a problem.”
“Why?”
“I’ll instruct them not to annoy you. But they can be troublesome. They’ll probably make a nuisance of themselves—following you everywhere, chattering constantly, pestering you to tell them about your ranch house.”
“Sisters,” Claire said dreamily.
She actually seemed to like the idea that his sisters might look up to her.
Chase was beginning to think she was going to enjoy Hupa after all. He was glad. He’d been worried she would look down on his humble village, his cedar plank house, his modest blacksmith shop, that she would take one look at his large, noisy, overbearing family and flee back to civilized Paradise.
He would have to return with her if she did. He didn’t think he could live without Claire. But it would be so difficult to leave his home, his family, his shop, the only world he’d ever known.
Still, that was what he was asking Claire to do.
He stared into the fire. “Do you think I should have taken your father’s offer?”
“To run the ranch? No.”
“No?”
“Sitting behind a desk, settling accounts, buying and selling cattle, managing ranch hands…it would break your spirit.”
He shrugged. “It would give you a good life.”
She leaned against his shoulder. “I have a good life, just because you’re in it.”
He kissed the top of her head. Claire always knew the right thing to say.
“Besides,” she added, “it’s exactly what your brother needs to make him grow up and settle down.”
Chase chuckled. “What do you think Catalina said to make him decide to take the job?”
“Oh, I know what she said.”
“You do? What?”
“I’m going to have your baby.”
Chase’s head popped up. “What?”
“Catalina’s expecting,” Claire cooed, grinning with glee. “Isn’t it wonderful? You’re going to be an uncle.”
For a moment, Chase could only stare at her in amazement. His brother—a father? It was hard to imagine. What would Drew teach the child first—gambling or gunslinging? Still, Chase had to admit that his new title had a good sound to it. “Uncle Chase.”
Claire bit her lip. She was dying to tell Chase her own good news—that in about seven months he was going to be more than just an uncle.
Then she reconsidered. Tomorrow they’d arrive in Hupa. She would see his village. She would meet his family. They’d probably sleep in one of the plank houses he’d told her about…sharing the quarters with members of his tribe and maybe even a few dogs. She might not be alone with Chase for days.
So while the stew gently simmered and the steak slowly roasted over the fire, she ran a fingertip over his luscious, massive shoulder and arched a speculative brow. “You know, Chase, this is our last night alone for a long time.”
He may not have moved a muscle, but she saw the gleam enter his eyes.
She let her fingers climb across his collar bone and up the side of his neck. “And supper won’t be ready for a while.”
The corner of his lip curved up.
She delved her fingers into his thick mane of silky black hair. “Maybe we should be thinking about starting a family of our own.”
“You think so?”
She could tell by his smoky gaze that he wholeheartedly agreed. She let her fingers drift over to his chin and brought his face close to hers. “Mm-hmm.”
Then she closed her eyes and kissed him. His mouth was warm and welcoming, and when he clasped the back of her head to deepen the kiss, she let out a blissful sigh.
She opened her mouth, enjoying the way their tongues danced together. Her hands explored him, weaving through his hair, caressing his ears, grazing his jaw.
And then he settled his hands around her waist and lifted her onto his lap, facing him.
She gasped inside his mouth as she felt the hard evidence of his lust beneath her. He made a soft groan of pleasure as he clasped her hips and moved up against her. Her cheeks flushed, and her heart beat faster as heat flooded between her thighs.
Still kissing him, she unfastened his shirt, button by button. And then her fingers encountered paper. She broke from the kiss and peered inside his shirt. “What…”
He smiled sheepishly. “That was supposed to be a wedding gift.”
Her eyes widened as she pulled out her battered, smoky, waterlogged copy of THE TRAIL HUNTERS OR MONOWANO THE SHAWNEE SPY. Where had he found it? She’d lost it in the fire and thought she’d never see it again. “How did you…”
“I found it outside the barn the night of the fire. I was going to give it to you when we got to Hupa.”
“You were?” She hugged the beloved book to her breast.
He clucked his tongue. “It was supposed to be a surprise. And if you hadn’t been in such a hurry to take off my clothes—”
She gasped. “Really? Well, I wouldn’t have been in such a hurry if you hadn’t started poking me with your…your big…what’s-it…”
He grinned. “Whedze.”
“Whedze.”
“And my big whedze would not be poking you right now if you hadn’t kissed me like that.”
“Like what?” she teased, tossing aside the dime novel, which would never be as exciting as her adventures with Chase Wolf.
He grinned like his spirit animal. “Like this.”
THE END
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More Books by Glynnis Campbell
The Knights of de Ware
My Champion
My Warrior
My Hero
The Warrior Maids of Rivenloch
The Shipwreck (novella)
Lady Danger
Captive Heart
Knight's Prize
The Medieval Outlaws
Danger's Kiss
Passion's Exile
The Scottish Lasses
The Outcast (novella)
MacFarland's Lass
MacAdam’s Lass
The California Legends
Native Gold
Coming Soon…
Native Hawk
Book 3 of The California Legends
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About Glynnis Campbell
I’m a USA Today bestselling author of swashbuckling action-adventure romance, mostly set in Scotland, with over a dozen award-winning books published in six languages. But before my role as a medieval matchmaker, I sang in The Pinups, an all-girl band on CBS Records, and provided voices for the MTV animated series The Maxx, Blizzard’s Diablo and Starcraft video games, and various audiobooks.
I’m the wife of a rock star (if you want to know which one, contact me) and the mother of two young adults. I do my best writing on cruise ships, in Scottish castles, on my husband’s tour bus, and at home in my sunny southern California garden. I love transporting readers to a place where the bold heroes have endearing flaws, the women are stronger than they look, the land is lush and untamed, and chivalry is far from dead.
I’m always delighted to hear from my readers, so please feel free to email me at [email protected].
Acknowledgments
Thanks to
Claire Danes and David Boreanaz,
Betty and Earl Talken for the field trips,
William Clark and Dale Josephson for their family history,
Mike Gilman for his blacksmith expertise,
The helpful docents at the Colman Centerville Museum,
My friends at The Gold Nugget Museum—
Denver Williams, Janeece Webb, Becky Dresser,
Hoopa Tribal Education Association—
Leandra Billings and Marcellene Norton
for their gift of The Hupa Language Dictionary,
The Hupa Nation,
The Round Valley Indian Tribes,
Roger Ekins for hiking “The Flumes and Trails of Paradise,”
and the too-numerous-to-name Paradisians
who share my love of history and are always
so generous with their time and information!
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