White Wolf

by Susan Edwards

  He tightened his hold on the woman who each day was becoming more important to him than ever. He’d never felt so content, so satisfied with life as he did right at that moment. After making love on the bank they’d moved into the water and made love again, her need as great as his own. Even now, the memory of her legs wrapped around his waist, the water surrounding them, surging against them—wetting her breasts, turning them into sleek, pale mounds—made him want her all over again.

  He stared up into the twinkling heavens and felt a twinge of sadness creep in as he finally admitted to himself what he’d ignored, put off, and refused to consider. Not only did he love Jessica Jones, but he didn’t think he could live without her. The acknowledgment tore deep. Whatever he chose, with her or without her, someone was bound to get hurt—her or him. Yet how could he marry her when his life was filled with uncertainty? More than anything else, at that moment, he wanted Jessie for his wife. Destiny be damned. He wanted happiness, contentment. He wanted forever.

  Clouds passed in front of the moon. Why? he grieved. Why this woman? Why now? But the heavens held no answers for him this night. Already the sky had clouded over. Another prairie storm brewed. With a regretful sigh, he knew it was time to return to camp, but before he could make the suggestion, Jessie stroked him along the length of his arms.

  “I love you, Wolf.”

  Pain tore through him. Loneliness as he’d never known before struck hard. All his life he’d walked alone. Until now. But his love for Jessie didn’t change things. He was neither white nor Indian. He was a man who drifted without direction. For a while he’d deluded himself with thoughts that Jessie belonged at his side. Her declaration of love tore a hole in his heart. He recalled the dreams that had haunted him since their first night of lovemaking.

  In more than one of them, his grandmother had appeared with Jessie at her side. Secretly, he’d wanted to believe that she was telling him Jessie was the one she’d foreseen so long ago, but now he forced himself to admit the truth. It was his own desire, wishful thinking, and his love for Jessie that made him wish it were so. And though he’d told her that he loved her, meant the words, felt them with all his being, he couldn’t promise forever. Not yet. He had to think and plan. “Jessica—”

  She turned in his arms and pressed her fingers against his lips. “I’m not asking you to make promises,” she said softly. “All I want is to be with you. When spring comes, I’m going home with you.”

  Wolf stroked the side of her face, wishing it were so simple. “Jessie, if you leave Oregon, you may never see your brothers again. The life I live is harsh, primitive. There’s nothing there. Just a cabin. No town.”

  Jessie’s eyes flashed with anger. “Do you think so little of my feelings as to believe I care? It’s my choice. One I’m perfectly capable of making. I know what I want, what I feel. We belong. I love you and you love me. That’s all that matters. Your family will become my family. Your home, ours.”

  “Jessie, listen to me. There’s more to it.”

  “No! Tell me that you don’t love me, Wolf,” she demanded. “Tell me you lied when you said you loved me.” She stared at him, waiting for him to say the words or deny them.

  His hand lifted. He couldn’t lie to her. “Jess,” he whispered, “you know I love you.” He ran the back of his fingers along her jawline. “Words, however sweet, sincere and earnest, don’t change anything. Until I know what it is that I must do, I’m not free to make promises. Come spring I’ll return, alone. It’s better this way.” Wolf put her aside and left the water to gather his clothes. He was afraid that if he remained close to her, he’d give in as his heart urged him to do.

  Jessie’s voice stopped him. “Better for whom, Wolf? You or me? Who are you seeking to protect? There’s no reason why your mission cannot become our mission.”

  Wolf dressed—tempted—oh so tempted—to say the hell with family, his and hers, and keep her at his side. He hated the thought of hurting her, yet the thought of losing her left a dark void deep inside. Fully dressed, he turned. She had dressed during their long silence, and she stood before him, her back rigid as she stared out into the night. “Come, Jessica. It’s time to return.”

  “Fine. Go ahead. I’ll walk back.”

  Wolf went to her and turned her to face him. He closed his heart against the tears trailing down her cheeks. “Jessie, I don’t want to hurt you. God knows I love you. But I don’t have anything to offer you.”

  Jessie leaned into him with a desperation that tugged deeply at his conscience. She reached up and cupped his tightly clenched jaw. “Oh, Wolf, you’re so wrong. All I need is you and your love. Nothing else matters.” Wolf put her aside and drew upon every ounce of control an Indian warrior possessed. “It matters to me.”

  Whirling away from him, Jessie grabbed the blanket, tossed it over her shoulder and stomped off. “Fine. If you’re going to be stubborn about it, I’ll just have to find a way to convince you. Rook once told me that if it’s meant to be, it will be. I’ll prove it to you,” she said over her shoulder.

  Wolf watched her go, an inexplicable feeling of emptiness assailing him. Sadness and regret speared their way through the wall he’d once built around his heart, shattering it, leaving him open, raw and bleeding. Dammit, he needed her. His chest tightened; his eyes burned. He took a step toward her, then stopped, letting his hand fall back to his side. It was better this way. Jessie reached his horse and mounted. With a defiant glare, she kicked the spirited stallion into a gallop and left him to walk back. Wolf rubbed his hand over his face and watched until the shadows of the land swallowed her from view.

  She’d breached the last of his walls. They’d crumbled around him, releasing all past bitterness and hurt. He closed his eyes. Raw, exposed and vulnerable, his heart bled, scrambled to fortify itself, but there was nothing left to rebuild his defenses. The solitary man inside rebelled. He no longer wanted to walk through his life alone. He’d tasted heaven, and now he’d been tossed into hell. And he worried that he’d never be able to leave her. He headed for the cattle. Surefooted, he skimmed over the rough terrain as he ran, nostrils flaring, fists clenched and trickles of sweat running down the sides of his face. But no matter how hard or fast his feet pounded the ground, two simple words echoed over and over in his mind: we belong.

  James laid out his bedroll, yawning as he shucked off his boots. Climbing beneath the coarse woolen blankets, he stared up into the cloudy sky and frowned, praying for the storm to hold off until morning. Nearby, Jeremy snored and snorted in his sleep. Jordan, he assumed, was with Coralie. He was happy things had worked out between them. He thought of Elliot, who was head over heels in love with Mary Beth. A sigh of contentment washed over him. It looked as though there might be another wedding by the time they reached Oregon.

  James turned onto his side. Of course, if he had his way, there would be two weddings. He loved Eirica—loved her and those children so bad it hurt. But the woman was cussedly stubborn. Oh, the other day she’d accepted help—with the oxen—but otherwise she kept her distance. During the day she walked with Coralie or Jessie, and if he came around in the evenings, she ducked into her tent with the children. Grinding his teeth together, James sat up, one knee bent toward the sky. How could he convince her that he was not Birk, that he, James Noah Jones, would never hurt her or her children? How was he to prove himself if she wouldn’t give him a chance?

  All he wanted was to help her, ease her burden. She deserved to be taken care of. And who better than the man who loved her? Long used to taking care of his siblings, James felt at home in the role. Why wouldn’t she allow him to take care of her? He huffed out a breath. Why’d he have to go and do something stupid like fall in love? Life was a whole lot less complicated without woman worries. But before he had a chance to dwell further on the affairs of his heart, he heard the rapid approach of a rider.

  Resigned to having to ride out to deal with some problem with the herd, he stood and waited. To his surprise, Jor
dan came to an abrupt halt. “James, we gotta talk,” Jordan shouted. “Wolf’s been bedding Jessie, and he ain’t got no intention of doing right by her. What are we going to do—”

  James held up one hand. “Now, hold on, Jordan. What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Wolf is bedding Jessie. I saw them.” Jordan slammed one fist into another. “No one uses Jessie like that and gets away with it.”

  Narrowing his eyes, James knitted his brows. He’d suspected Jessie was sweet on the wagon master, but bedding him? “You sure about that?”

  Jordan swallowed and looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, saw them comin’ out of this secluded pond. They were arguing. Heard him giving her some cock-and-bull story about not making promises. He’s using her. He’s using our baby sister.”

  James paced. “Damn.” He liked and respected Wolf. But Jordan was right. No one treated their sister like some common saloon girl. She was ruined now. What if she got with child? The thought chilled him.

  “Can’t see why she loves the bastard,” Jordan said.

  James lifted a brow. “Just like she couldn’t see how you could love Coralie?”

  Jordan lowered his brows. “That’s different.”

  “No. I can see why she does, and if she loves him she’ll have him, one way or another.”

  “How, James? How are we gonna make that bastard do right by Jessie?” Jordan paced, smacking his fist into his palm.

  James smiled grimly, bent down and picked up his rifle.

  “Hot damn,” Jordan shouted.

  “What the hell is going on?” Jeremy demanded, joining them, having been awakened by Jordan’s shout. He stared at the gun in James’s hand.

  Jordan turned to him, his face red with rage, his voice deep with determination. “A wedding. Get your gun, little brother. We’re gonna have ourselves a wedding.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Looks like trouble, boss.”

  Wolf turned from Shorty to see the three Jones brothers riding toward him as if the devil were nipping at their heels. He glanced around quickly but saw nothing amiss. The cattle were bedded, the horses grazed contentedly and all his men were going about their business. Mounting Black Shadow, he rode out to meet them, fearing trouble at the wagons.

  But as soon as he saw the fury in Jordan’s expression and the heavy frown on James’s overly serious face, he knew they’d somehow discovered that he was sleeping with their sister. Instinctively, he knew it hadn’t been from Jessie. He met Jeremy’s apologetic glance and grimaced inwardly. Nor, apparently, had it come from Jeremy. Wolf dismounted and braced himself.

  James stomped over to him and spoke first. “Wolf, we’ve come to—”

  Jordan launched himself from his saddle and flew at Wolf. In a blur, the two men skidded across the ground. “You damned bastard!” Jordan swung his fist.

  The blow caught Wolf just below the jaw. Stars floated behind his eyelids. Dimly he heard Jordan egging him on, telling him to get up and fight. His own anger and frustration rose. If they wanted a brawl, who was he to argue? He returned the punch. Fists flew, and grunts filled the air as they rolled close to the prancing hooves of the nervous horses.

  James and Jeremy yanked them apart. “Dammit, Jordan,” James yelled, shoving his brother aside. “I said I’d take care of it. Now, leave off.”

  Wolf rolled to his feet and warily faced James and Jeremy.

  Jordan staggered toward his grazing horse and returned, gripping a shotgun that he leveled at Wolf’s chest. “No one uses our sister.”

  Wolf lifted a brow. “You going to shoot me, Jordan?”

  “Don’t think I won’t, you no-account bastard. No one hornswoggles me and my brothers. You’re gonna marry my sister. By force, if necessary.”

  Wolf’s jaw dropped. He snapped it shut. “A shotgun wedding? And if I refuse?”

  James stepped between Wolf and Jordan before fists started flying again. His voice remained low, controlled. “Answer one question for me, Wolf. Do you love her?”

  Crossing his arms, Wolf took the measure of Jessie’s eldest brother. Though it was dark, there was no mistaking the man’s fury in his glittering gaze. Wolf almost wished he would come at him and lose the control that held him in check. “That’s between Jess and me, James.”

  James narrowed his eyes. His fists clenched, and he took a step forward. Catching himself visibly, he backed off. “It don’t matter. You’ll do right by her or answer to us.”

  Wolf couldn’t fault the three men flanking him. After all, were he in the same place, he’d be just as concerned. He waited a heartbeat, then spoke honestly. “Jess knows how I feel about her. She knows the score.” Guilt assailed him. She might have come with him willingly, but she’d been an innocent. She deserved better.

  Jordan jabbed him in the chest with the rifle. “Jess ain’t old enough to know better. You took advantage of her. You’ll marry her or else.”

  Wolf lifted a brow. “Did she send you?”

  Jeremy looked uncomfortable. “She don’t know we’re here.” That earned him a glare from his brothers.

  Arching one brow, Wolf addressed James. “And what if she doesn’t want to marry me?”

  “She ain’t got no choice.” Jordan said. “She ain’t gonna have no baby out of wedlock. You two are going to marry, tonight.” He tightened his grip on his rifle for emphasis.

  Wolf didn’t think this the time to tell James he’d rounded up some Queen Anne’s Lace to keep her from becoming with child. He glanced at Jeremy, who, so far, had remained conspicuously quiet. “Do you think Jess will thank you for this?”

  Jeremy shrugged but looked uncomfortable. It was clear he stood united with his brothers, no matter what his personal feelings were. Deciding to put an end to the standoff, Wolf spoke to James. “My feelings for Jessie are mine, but yes, I love her. There are reasons I can’t marry her. She knows why, even if she doesn’t understand or agree. It’s for her own good that I ask you to think of her. She’s better off remaining in Oregon with her family. She’ll be safer.”

  James considered his words. “But will she be happier?”

  Wolf’s silence was answer enough.

  James folded his arms across his chest. “If Jessie wants you and loves you, then, by God, you’ll marry her. Jeremy, fetch Jess. Jordan, go fetch that preacher. We’ll wait here.”

  Wolf watched the two brothers ride off. Anger speared through him. Marriage! A shotgun wedding. Damn, he should have listened when his instincts warned that this family was trouble. Of all the possible events he could have foreseen, this was not one of them. And though he could simply refuse, honor wouldn’t allow it.

  “You’d better treat her right,” James warned, his voice vibrating with fury.

  Wolf lifted a brow and indicated the rifle Jordan had tossed at James. “You and I both know that if I refuse to marry Jessica, you won’t shoot.”

  James dipped his head. “True. But you’re an honorable man. You’ll marry her.”

  Wolf sighed. It was true. In truth, he admired Jessie’s brothers for looking out for her.

  They were well within their rights to feel as they did. If he’d caught a warrior bedding White Dove, he’d have reacted in the same way.

  No. It was his own fault that he was in this predicament. He should have stayed far away from Jessica Jones, but he hadn’t been able to, and he didn’t regret it. Except that now she’d ultimately be the one to pay the high price for their loving.

  Jordan returned a short while later with a harried, disheveled man in tow just as Jeremy rode in with Jessie. The minister, obviously awakened by Jordan, shifted uneasily from foot to foot. A gust of wind tore through Wolf’s long hair. A storm was brewing, and if he knew Jessica Jones, the elements wouldn’t hold a candle to her fury. She wasn’t going to be any happier at her brothers’ interference than he was.

  Jumping off the horse, Jessie ran forward, confused and worried. Jeremy had refused to tell her anything except that her presence wa
s needed. She glanced at the subdued group. Why were her brothers and Wolf out here? She scanned the gathered assembly while Jeremy hung back. She stood between James and Wolf, looking from one to the other. “What’s going on, James? Why all the secrecy? Jeremy said you wanted to see me. Wouldn’t tell me—”

  Her voice broke off when she saw Jordan pointing his gun at Wolf. Worry replaced confusion. Had her brothers found out? “Wolf?”

  His gaze slid from hers to the darkening clouds gathering overhead.

  “Got good news for ya, Jess. Wolf’s gonna marry you,” Jordan announced, his voice grim. His lips curved in a satisfied smirk.

  Shock held her silent for a long moment. Then full realization dawned. “Are you out of your mind?” she shouted. “What kind of joke is this?” She glared at her eldest brother.

  James stiffened. “It’s no joke.”

  Jessie glared at the three bearded faces before her. “You can’t be serious.” She laughed hollowly, but no one denied it, including Wolf, and when she recognized Mary Beth’s father standing to one side, her panic grew. They were serious. Dead serious.

  This couldn’t be happening. She swung around to Wolf, noting his stoic expression and his deceptively calm stance. But the muscle working near the base of his jaw signaled the true state of his emotions. “You’re not agreeing to this, are you?” she asked in disbelief.

  He lifted one brow and indicated the rifle. “Your brothers are calling the shots.”

  Jessie glared at Jordan. “Put that gun away, you lunkhead.” When he lowered the muzzle to the ground, she jabbed James in the chest. “Stop this nonsense right now, James Noah Jones. This is none of your concern.”

  Jordan whipped her around. “Like hell! When somebody beds our sister and takes advantage of her innocence, he deals with us.”

  Jessie walked stiffly over to Jeremy and punched him square in the belly. “You promised not to tell, Jeremy Ezra. You said you’d let me handle it. How could you do this to me? We’re not even halfway to Oregon yet. I had lots of time.”