Forbidden Fires

by Madeline Baker

  “We’ve been through all that before,” Rafe replied wearily. And look where it got me, he thought bitterly.

  “I know.” Rising nimbly to her feet. Summer Wind tossed the breechclout into his lap. “Goodbye, Stalking Wolf.”

  He stood up, the clout falling, unnoticed, to the ground. “Summer Wind, wait.”

  She looked at him, her dark eyes filling with hope, and he cursed under his breath. How did a man ask a woman he had rejected to bring him the woman he loved?

  Summer Wind tilted her head to one side, a nasty suspicion growing in the back of her mind.

  “Summer Wind, I…could you?”

  “It’s her!” Summer Wind exclaimed angrily. “You want me to bring her here!”

  “I know it’s asking a lot, but—”

  “No, I will not!”

  “Dammit, you’ve got to help me. I can’t leave her.”

  “No.”

  Rafe swore under his breath. Damn stubborn woman. Apparently if she couldn’t have him, neither would Caitlyn.

  “Would it help if I got down on my knees and begged?”

  A flicker of amusement danced in Summer Wind’s eyes and then was gone. “Would you?”

  “Do I have to?”

  “You ask much of me,” she remarked with a slight shake of her head.

  Rafe quirked an eyebrow at her as he gestured at the numerous wounds on his body. “I think I have that right.”

  A wave of guilt assailed Summer Wind. Perhaps she was being unfair. Stalking Wolf had saved her from the man, Beech, after all, and she had known Caitlyn was his woman all along. Stalking Wolf had never lied to her, never made her any promises. Now that he was leaving, it would serve no purpose to keep Caitlyn from him, and yet…

  “Would you really get down on your knees and beg?” she asked.

  “What do you think?”

  “I think I would enjoy it.”

  “I’m sure you would.”

  Summer Wind stared at him. He was a magnificent man. Even bruised, his skin discolored and swollen, he was wonderful to look at.

  “I must go,” she said abruptly. “I make no promises about your woman.”

  “I understand.”

  He watched her out of sight, wondering if he would ever see Summer Wind or Caitlyn again.

  Caitlyn spent a sleepless night. Her fears for Rafe kept her awake long after Tonkalla and his wife were sleeping soundly. She wondered how badly Rafe was hurt, if he had found shelter for the night, if he was in much pain.

  But it was fear for her own future that drove her out of the lodge and into the predawn darkness. Rafe would not be able to help her escape now. She was on her own, and determined not to spend one more day in Tonkalla’s lodge.

  Earlier, Tonkalla had insisted she dress as a Cheyenne woman. At the time, she had objected, but now she was grateful. Clad in a doeskin tunic and moccasins, with a blanket draped over her head to hide her blonde hair, she left the village and made her way toward the river. She moved cautiously, expecting at any moment to feel Tonkalla’s hand on her arm, to hear one of the night guards challenge her, but nothing happened.

  When she reached the river, she turned south, walking in the direction Rafe had taken when he left the village. He had a good head start on her, but he was hurt. Surely, if she walked very fast, she could overtake him.

  The sky grew light as the hours passed. She ran until her sides ached, and then she walked. And then she ran again, constantly checking over her shoulder to see if she was being followed.

  Later that morning, Tonkalla questioned his wife about the white woman’s whereabouts.

  “She has gone for food,” Little Deer replied, knowing it was a lie.

  Tonkalla grunted softly, the white woman’s whereabouts temporarily forgotten as Little Deer served the morning meal. Later, when her husband had gone to visit his uncle, Little Deer went to the river and carefully obliterated the white woman’s tracks.

  “Run fast,” Little Deer murmured. “Run fast and far and hide well. One woman is enough for my husband.”

  Rafe spent most of the morning sleeping. Just after noon, he went to the water hole, where his unexpected presence spooked a couple of horses that had strayed from the Cheyenne herd.

  His eyes thoughtful, Rafe sat near the water’s edge and began plaiting a lariat from some vines growing nearby.

  The horses, drawn by their thirst as much as by their curiosity, returned a short while later. Heads lowered, ears twitching, they stared at the man sitting beside the water hole.

  Cautiously, their nostrils flared to breathe in his scent more readily, and they stepped closer. Wild horses would not have returned, but these horses were not wild. They snorted and pawed the ground when he slowly stood up, but they did not run. Speaking softly in the Cheyenne tongue, Rafe approached the closest horse and slid the lariat around the horse’s neck. The gelding tossed its head, as if objecting to being caught, and then allowed Rafe to scratch its ears.

  “Things are looking up,” Rafe murmured. The gelding, a large bald-faced bay, docilely followed him back to the glen. The second horse, a short-barreled buckskin mare, followed along behind.

  For the first time in her life, Caitlyn wished she were an Indian. Perhaps then she’d be able to find Rafe. Certainly only an Indian would be able to trail someone across the trackless prairie. She looked about and saw only a sea of grass and scattered stands of timber. She would never find him, she thought, discouraged. She’d never find Rafe, and she’d never find her way back to civilization, either.

  She was tired, hot, and thirsty when she heard a horse snort behind her. Resigned, she turned around, expecting to find an angry Tonkalla riding toward her. Instead, she saw Summer Wind.

  The two women stared at each other for a moment—Caitlyn’s expression wary, Summer Wind’s filled with annoyance.

  “You stupid woman,” Summer Wind said abruptly. “What are you doing way out here?”

  “I fail to see how that’s any of your business,” Caitlyn replied defensively.

  “We have no time to argue,” Summer Wind said. “Little Deer is running out of excuses for your absence. Hurry now, we must go.”

  “Go where?”

  “To Stalking Wolf.”

  “Rafe! You know where he is?”

  “Yes.” Summer Wind extended her hand. “Come.”

  With trepidation, Caitlyn took Summer Wind’s hand and swung up behind her. She had no reason to trust this woman, but even going back to Tonkalla would be better than perishing in the wilderness.

  But Summer Wind did not take her back to the village. Instead, she rode toward a stand of trees that enclosed a shaded glen and there, sheltered from view, they found Rafe.

  Caitlyn slid off the back of the horse and flew into his arms. “Rafe, oh, Rafe,” she murmured.

  “Caty.” He hugged her close, grimacing a little as she hugged his back. He was still sore, but this was an ache he could stand.

  Rafe looked at Summer Wind and smiled. “Le pila mita.”

  Summer Wind nodded. “You had better go. Little Deer has been making excuses for the white woman’s absence all day. I think Tonkalla will get suspicious soon.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I think I will stay with the Cheyenne.”

  “Be happy, Summer Wind.”

  “Safe journey, Stalking Wolf.” She gazed at him a moment more, wishing things had turned out differently between them, and then she wheeled her horse around and rode away toward the village.

  “We’d better go,” Rafe said, giving Caitlyn a squeeze. “Can you ride bareback?”

  “If I have to.”

  “You have to.”

  He took the blanket from Caitlyn and tore off several long strips which he fashioned into bridles and reins.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He pulled her close for a moment, his lips moving in her hair, and then he lifted her onto the back of the buckskin mare and handed h
er the makeshift reins. Then, vaulting onto the back of the bay gelding, he led the way through the trees and out onto the prairie.

  He threw Caitlyn a broad smile of encouragement and then urged his mount into a lope, knowing their only hope was to put a good distance between themselves and the Cheyenne.

  They rode for hours beneath a blinding sun and a cloudless sky, pausing now and then to breathe the horses. They had no food and no water, but Caitlyn did not complain. They were free and that was all that mattered.

  It was well after dusk when Rafe drew rein for the night. Caitlyn slid to the ground, her whole body weary. Rafe’s arms were a welcome support and she rested her head on his shoulder, feeling as though she had come home at last.

  “Do you think they’ll follow us?” she asked.

  Rafe shrugged. “I don’t know.” He placed his hand under her chin and lifted her head, his dark eyes gazing intently into her own. “Did Tonkalla touch you?”

  “No.” Caitlyn smiled. “He tried once, but Little Deer hit him with a stick.”

  Rafe chuckled. “Thank God for jealous wives,” he muttered, and then he hugged Caitlyn hard, knowing he would never have forgiven himself if she had come to harm. His right hand played over her back and shoulders while his left hand held her close. They stood that way for a long time, with Caitlyn’s head tucked under Rafe’s chin. Slowly, she became aware of the heat spreading between them, of the sudden heaviness of her breasts where they pressed against his chest, of the rising thrust of Rafe’s manhood.

  “Caty.” His voice was low, imploring.

  “Mmmmm?”

  “Are you tired?”

  She nodded, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth.

  “How tired?”

  “Very,” she teased.

  His lips moved in her hair as his hand stroked her back, the curve of her hip. His other hand dropped lower and pressed her hips against his, letting her feel the power of his need.

  “Too tired?” His breath was hot against her ear, his tongue moist as he nibbled at her earlobe.

  “What did you have in mind?” she asked innocently.

  “What do you think?” he growled, grinding his hips against hers.

  “Oh, that.” She was laughing now, her eyes bright as she tilted her head back to better see his face.

  “Yes, that,” Rafe replied, and before she could blink, his mouth closed over hers. His kiss was ardent, insistent, and completely wonderful, and Caitlyn leaned against him, her arms reaching up to twine about his neck, her body molding itself to his. She felt the heat of his desire through the folds of her skirt and it quickened her own, leaving her breathless and pliant and, oh, so willing.

  Rafe loosened the ties at her shoulders and the dress slid to the ground. He removed his clout, then dropped to his knees and removed her moccasins, his hand caressing her foot.

  He lifted one hand and she placed hers in it, and he drew her down beside him. Caitlyn’s hands slid over his biceps, across his shoulders, down his chest, reacquainting herself with the strength and power of the man who was her husband. She gloried in the taut muscles that rippled beneath her fingertips, in the sharp intake of his breath as her hand stroked the inside of his thigh, teasingly, tantalizing, until he groaned with pleasure and pain. Bending over him, she kissed his face, the tips of her breasts brushing against his chest, like velvet stroking steel.

  Rafe let her touch and tease and explore until he was ready to explode, and then he rolled her onto her back and returned touch for touch and kiss for kiss until they were both breathless, caught up in a dizzying inferno.

  And then, at last, they surged together, reaching for that blissful paradise where, for one brief, magical moment two people became one.

  Later, Caitlyn wept softly as she studied the horrible bruises and welts that marred his back and shoulders. A long red welt ran across his buttocks, the backs of his legs were bruised and swollen and she wondered how he had managed to ride bareback all day without complaint.

  “I’m all right, Caty,” Rafe assured her. “Don’t cry.”

  “What happened, Rafe? Why did they beat you?”

  “Summer Wind got mad because I wouldn’t divorce you and marry her. She told Shinte Galeska that I had been banished from the Lakota for killing a man, and that I had kidnapped the two of you from Fort Laramie. The Cheyenne did the only thing they could do.”

  Rafe grinned. “I guess Summer Wind’s conscience started to bother her and she came looking for me. I asked her to bring you to me.”

  Caitlyn snuggled against him, thankful that Summer Wind had found her, thankful to be back in her husband’s arms.

  With a sigh, she gazed up at the moon, shining full and bright overhead. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. You see the dark spots on the moon? The Cherokee have a legend about the sun and the moon that explains those spots.”

  “Really? Tell me.”

  “Well, it seems that when the Sun was a young woman, she had a brother, the Moon, who lived in the West. The Sun had a lover who used to come every month in the dark of the moon to court her. He would come only at night and leave before daylight, and although she talked to him, she could never see his face in the dark and he would not tell her his name. The Sun was always wondering who her mysterious lover was.

  “Finally, she came up with an idea to discover her lover’s identity. The next time he came, as they were sitting together in the dark, she dipped her hand into the cinders and ashes of the fireplace and rubbed her fingers over his face, saying, ‘Your face is cold; you must have suffered from the wind.’ After a while, he left and went away again. The next night when the Moon came up, his face was covered with spots, and then his sister knew he was the one who had been coming to see her.

  “He was so ashamed that she knew that he kept as far away as he could at the other end of the sky. Ever since he has tried to keep a long way behind the Sun and when he does sometimes have to appear near her in the West, he makes himself as thin as a ribbon so he can hardly be seen.”

  “That’s marvelous,” Caitlyn remarked. “Do you know any more stories like that?”

  “Yeah. The Indians love to tell stories. At night, during the winter, they spend hours relating stories and legends.”

  “Tell me another.”

  “I’d rather start a legend of my own,” Rafe murmured as he traced the outline of her jaw with his fingers, “about Stalking Wolf, a mighty warrior, who made love to his woman all night long.”

  “Far be it from me to stand in the way of a legend in the making,” Caitlyn replied with a seductive smile as Rafe covered her body with his own.

  Caitlyn breathed a sigh of relief as familiar landmarks came into view. At last, after three weeks on the trail they were home!

  The journey from the Cheyenne village had been long but virtually trouble-free. They had spent some nights going to bed hungry, but for the most part Rafe had managed to find enough food and water to sustain them. Twice, they had seen Indians, but always from a distance. Each sighting filled Caitlyn with dread, so certain was she that Tonkalla would find her and take her back to the village. She had seen the Indians through different eyes during the few days they had spent in the Cheyenne camp. She knew now that they were not complete savages, that they were capable of love and laughter, of joy and pain, but she had no desire to live among them again.

  The cattle drive that was to put the ranch in the black had been a disaster, she mused ruefully. Four men had been killed, eight hundred head of cattle had been run off by Indians. Instead of making a profit of almost nine thousand dollars, they had come up empty. How would they rebuild the herd now, she wondered bleakly. Where would they get the money to pay off the bank loan, to pay the hands’ wages, to buy seed, and other necessities?

  And yet, despite everything, Caitlyn felt her heart lift when the ranch house came into view.

  “Home at last,” she murmured. She glanced at Rafe, riding beside her. “Sometimes I didn’t th
ink we’d make it.

  Rafe nodded. The ranch was a sight for sore eyes, he thought, especially after all they’d been through.

  Paulie and Rusty came out to meet them, the welcome in their eyes turning to confusion when they saw Rafe and Caitlyn dressed in buckskins. Paulie glanced down the road, frowning, when he saw that Rafe and Caitlyn were alone.

  “Where’s Scott?” Paulie asked. “And Web and the others?” Paulie glanced at the brief wolfskin clout Rafe was wearing. “What are you doing in that get-up?”

  “It’s a long story,” Rafe answered. Dismounting, he helped Caitlyn to the ground and handed Paulie the horses’ reins. “You go on up to the house, Caty,” he said, “I’ll fill Paulie and Rusty in on what happened.”

  Caitlyn nodded. There were many things that needed to be discussed, but right now all she could think of was a hot bath and a glass of cold milk.

  Rafe waited until Caitlyn was out of sight before he asked Paulie the questions that had been preying on his mind since they left the Cheyenne.

  “Anything strange happen here while we were gone?”

  Paulie shook his head. “No. Why?”

  “Did you go into town for anything?”

  “Yeah, a couple of times.”

  “Did you see Wylie?”

  “No, but then, I wasn’t looking for him.”

  “What’s this all about?” Rusty asked.

  Succinctly, Rafe told the two men about the cattle drive, about the Indian attack on the herd, about Web’s statement that he had seen Wylie with the Indians.

  “And you think Wylie was behind the attack,” Rusty remarked. “But why? What would he have to gain by helping a bunch of Indians steal our cattle?”

  Rafe shrugged. “I don’t know. Revenge, maybe.”

  “Against who?” Paulie asked.

  “I’d say I was the most likely candidate,” Rafe suggested wryly. “I embarrassed him at the Fourth of July dance, and as far as he’s concerned, I took his job away from him.”

  “And his girl,” Rusty added. “He was always certain Miss Caitlyn would marry him.”