Comanche Eagle

by Sara Orwig

  Finally it loosened and he pushed it off her shoulders, bending down to trail kisses along her throat. He slipped off her clothing, shoving down her chemise, cupping her high, firm breasts in his hands. Soft, so very soft. His thumbs circled her taut peaks and she moaned, her fingers digging into him and then sliding over his chest, down along his hips, down to his thighs.

  He growled deep in his throat, aching, trembling with need. He wanted to take her, to shove himself deep into her, join with her. He leaned down, and his tongue flicked over her nipple.

  As sensations flooded her, Crystal cried out. And above all, she was aware it was Travis who was kissing and stroking her. Her love, her life. The barriers between them were coming down, surely, steadily. Her heart pounded with desire, with eager anticipation, with a womanly sureness that she was wanted by her man.

  And then he straightened up. His eyes, black as night, focused on her. “Crystal,” he said in a rasp, cupping her face with his hand. He kissed her hard and then straightened to look at her again.

  “You’re winning. I got what I wanted when you married me. You’re going to get what you want someday.”

  “I can wait until you’re sure and until you’re not afraid.”

  “I’ll be afraid. That won’t ever go,” he said fiercely. “And if I love you, I’ll be damned terrified.”

  Hearing the emotion in his voice, she knew this brave warrior who had fought so many battles and who had been an officer in the army during the war was petrified of loving and losing again.

  She stood on tiptoe, winding her arm around his neck, her bare breasts pressing against his coat and shirt as she kissed him passionately. She leaned back to look at him.

  “I’m very much alive, Travis. And I intend to stay that way.”

  He shook his head. “You can’t know that. I’ve seen too many men go into battle with that attitude, Crystal. And I’ve carried their bodies away later.”

  He pulled her dress and chemise up on her shoulders, brushed her mouth so lightly, lingering, brushing his lips softly over hers again.

  “Oh, my woman,” he whispered. He straightened, his dark eyes boring into her, before he turned and went to the door. He paused to look back at her. Then he was gone into the night, closing the door quietly behind him.

  She swung out her arms and spun in a circle, then danced around the room, remembering being in his arms, waltzing with him, kissing him, relishing the glorious evening with him! The moments in the dining room had been special… the moments in the wagon … the moment in his arms on the dance floor. She hummed a tune as she pirouetted by herself. Seeing one of his jackets hanging by the door, she took it down and held it, her feet still moving gracefully in time with an unplayed melody.

  When she finally curled in bed, her body ached with longing for him to finish what he had started tonight.

  But he was changing. So swiftly changing. He wanted her, perhaps cared for her. He was good to her. She smiled, snuggling down beneath the covers and thinking about him as she drifted to sleep.

  Travis shifted on the cold straw. He was freezing—and at the same time burning. His body was hot with need for Crystal. For a woman. Any woman, he thought angrily, but then he knew that was not so. One tall, brave, red- haired woman who had tried to shoot him, who had married him in desperation, who had thrown pans at him, and whose kisses were scalding promises of wild passion. All-woman, desirable, intelligent, challenging. She had been beautiful tonight, so damned poised, leaving the town shocked and dazzled, opening doors for him and for Jacob. Travis wanted to storm back to the house and take her. He wanted to resist her and use some reason and caution.

  He sat up, gazing into the darkness while anger churned in him. She had been brave marrying him. Maybe he should be braver and get her with child.

  He laughed in the darkness at himself. Hell, he sounded as if it would be a chore to bed Crystal. He wanted her to an extent he couldn’t believe and it would never be a chore in any manner. She would burn him to ashes.

  How many sleepless nights would he spend before he could live with his decision? He lay back down, recalling the evening and all he had learned about her. She had had to care for her grandfather just as she’d cared for Ellery. He guessed she might have cared for her entire household. That would be no surprise.

  Travis settled in the straw, trying to think about the livery business and his ranch and get his mind to the point he could fall asleep, something he was doing less and less of lately. Thanks to Crystal.

  The next day was clear and cold. As Crystal hung out wash, knowing it would freeze but the wind might still blow it dry in time, she turned to rush back to the house. She scooped up Jacob, who was bundled up, his tiny face showing, his nose fiery red from the cold.

  She saw someone approaching the house. Her heart jumped and she thought of Zachary and Eb North. She hurried her step, rushing to get the revolver, but stopped on the porch when she recognized the rider. She stood in the wind as she watched Sheriff Hinckel ride up and she remembered that dreadful day when he had brought Ellery’s body home to her.

  “Afternoon, Crystal.”

  “Sheriff Hinckel. Want to come in? There’s a pot of coffee.”

  “Thanks. How’s the tyke?”

  “He’s fine,” she said as he followed her into the house. She set Jacob down, removing his mittens as she offered what hospitality she could. “Take off your coat and hat. I don’t suppose you came out here to talk to me?”

  “Nope,” Wade said, removing his coat and draping it over a chair. He looked around him. “You’ve made a nice place here.”

  “Thank you.”

  His blue eyes met her gaze. “I rode out to see Zachary North.”

  Fifteen

  She had known as soon as she’d seen him that he wanted Zachary.

  “I was hoping you wouldn’t ever come. Something’s wrong with a law that says a child belongs to a parent no matter what the parent does to that child.”

  “Yeah, I agree, but that’s the law.”

  “The men are working. If I fire a couple of shots, they’ll come in.”

  “Sit down. I’ll go fire the shots.” He strode outside and she heard two quick blasts that she knew would bring them running. As the sheriff returned, she poured a steaming cup of coffee for him.

  “Crystal, I’m not taking the boy back with me.”

  Startled, she turned. “You’re not? Then why’d you come?” She set down his coffee and stared as he pulled out a chair and sat down.

  “Just to tell him his pa was shot and killed.”

  She thought about Eb North. “Then Zachary doesn’t have to worry about him ever again?”

  “That’s right.”

  “It’s a dreadful thing to be glad a man has died.”

  Hinckel shook his head. “Some men ain’t worth spit. I guess we won’t have to worry about Zachary being torn with grief.” Hinckel paused, and in the silence she thought about what the news would mean to Zachary. “He seems like a nice young fellow.”

  “He is,” she said, smoothing Jacob’s curls and giving him a spoon to play with.

  “The sage grouse is abundant this year. Suppose you folks have been eating it regularly.”

  “Had some last night.”

  Crystal talked with the sheriff until they heard a horse and Travis came bursting through the door, bringing a gust of cold wind with him. He looked tall, powerful, even more broad-shouldered in his coat. He yanked off his gloves and crossed the room.

  “Afternoon, Travis,” the sheriff said, standing to shake hands. Travis’s eyes narrowed.

  “He hasn’t come for Zachary,” Crystal said quickly.

  “That’s right. Just came to tell him his pa is dead. Shot in a saloon fight last week.”

  “Thank heaven,” Travis said quietly, looking at Crystal. “We were afraid you’d come to take Zachary back to his father.”

  “Man wanted me to come get the boy, but I’ve heard about Eb North. And Turtle River
told me about Zachary. I told Eb North if he wanted the boy to go get him hisself. I know it’s my job,” he said, looking at Crystal, “and I know you might not approve, Judge, but Turtle River said the boy could have died.”

  “He would have if we hadn’t found him,” Travis said. “He’s down at the barn. We can go tell him about his father.”

  Crystal got Jacob’s coat and quickly bundled him up again. She glanced up to find Travis watching her. “Where are you going?”

  “With you. I don’t think Zachary will be sad, but I think I should go.”

  “He won’t be sad,” Travis said. He held her coat for her and when he pulled it around her shoulders, his hands lingered and his fingers brushed the side of her throat. She was conscious of him so close behind her. Every time they were together, he brushed against her and he touched her constantly. And they were together every day. The steady, slight contacts were building up fires in her that made her long for his arms around her and his hands moving over her.

  Travis swung Jacob into his arms and they left, closing the door. She hurried to keep up with the men’s quick strides, and in minutes, they entered the drafty barn. Horses snorted and pawed the ground. Zachary was hammering boards in place, building a horse stall in the still-unfinished barn. He had shed his coat and hat and pounded diligently, but glanced up and saw them coming. He lowered the hammer and stepped out of the stall, looking from Travis to the sheriff.

  “Hello, Sheriff,” he said cautiously, his eyes shifting across the barn. Crystal followed his gaze and saw the rifle propped against the wall.

  “Afternoon, Zachary,” Sheriff Hinckel said, extending his hand. Zachary shook hands with him, and Crystal could see the tense set to his shoulders.

  “Son, I’ve got some bad news to bring you about your family. Your pa was shot and he died last week.”

  Zachary gazed beyond them as if looking into his past. “That isn’t bad news,” he stated harshly. His gaze swung back to the sheriff and his blue eyes were filled with anger. “Who did it?”

  “Lester Fennell shot him at Stokely’s Saloon. Sorry.”

  “You don’t need to say sorry,” Zachary said. “I’m glad he’s gone. And there’s nothing there for me to go back home to. Not ever. Before he died, I’m glad he stopped by here, and he knew I would never come back home.” Zachary focused on the sheriff again. “Thanks for riding out and telling me.”

  “Come up to the house and stay for supper,” Travis offered, but Wade shook his head.

  “Thanks. I want to get back to town before nightfall. It’s blue in the north and another storm may be coming in. I’ll let you folks get back to work.”

  Travis turned to walk with them back toward the house. When they stepped outside, Crystal looked at the darkening northern sky that looked the color of blue steel and she shivered, suspecting they were in for a bad storm.

  The holidays loomed ahead and she could not resist thinking about a special dinner for everyone. As far as gifts, there was little she could make. She had never mastered needlepoint and crocheting. She was sadly lacking in such arts as cooking and sewing and she knew it full well. If they thought her cooking was bad, they should see her sewing.

  Travis draped his arm casually across her shoulders and she walked close beside him. When they reached the house, Sheriff Hinckel mounted up and talked a few minutes to Travis before bidding them goodbye. Travis placed his arm on Crystal’s, and they stood watching the sheriff ride away.

  “Now we don’t have to worry about Zachary.”

  “I hope he isn’t always bitter.”

  “Crystal, he has plenty to be bitter about. You’ve seen his scars.”

  “I wonder why he doesn’t go back to see his mother.”

  “I’ve heard him talk a little about her. She was almost as bad as his father. And you heard him. He said there was nothing for him to go back for.”

  Crystal shivered and shook her head, unable to understand such treatment of children and deciding she would write a letter to the governor about the law that gave parents full rights over their children no matter how much cruelty they inflicted. Laws could be changed and this was one that needed change.

  They went inside and Travis lifted Jacob high. Jacob squealed with laughter and Travis swung him around, laughing with him. She looked at father and son and then at the father. How handsome he looked when he laughed! It changed him from the hard man he seemed so much of the time. She hung her muffler over her coat and stuffed her gloves in her coat pocket.

  Travis placed Jacob on the table and shucked off his son’s coat.

  “Want coffee?” she asked.

  Travis shook his head and set Jacob on the floor and gave him the rag doll, which he promptly put in his mouth.

  “You saw the sky. I think we’re in for a snowstorm. I’d better keep working before it hits.” He headed toward the door, but when he reached her, he leaned down to brush a kiss lightly across her mouth. Then he straightened and left.

  Surprised, her lips tingling, Crystal followed him and moved to the window to watch him stride away. His coattails flapped around his long legs and his hat sat low on his head; his arms swung at his sides. She touched her lips lightly. A fleeting kiss, yet it was the first time he had kissed her goodbye. Her pulse raced from his kiss and from the knowledge that he was touching her more and more, kissing her lightly more often. How long would it take before he could let go of his fear of losing a woman in childbirth and the grief that he kept wrapped around him like a blanket torn by the wind?

  Yet she understood why and how much he hurt.

  Christmas came with a blanket of snow over the ranch. The day before, Turtle River knocked at the door, his hands filled with deer meat.

  “This is for dinner tomorrow. I know you have a turkey, but I thought we could have both.”

  “Thank you! I hope I can cook it without burning it beyond recognition.”

  “We don’t have to recognize it, Crystal,” he replied with a smile. “Just be able to slice into it. Perhaps if I watch Jacob tomorrow, then you won’t have trouble cooking it.”

  She ran her hand across her brow. It had been a busy morning and Jacob had been fussy, unusual for him. “I don’t know whether I will ever develop into a cook.”

  “You have already improved and you have changed since you came here.”

  She looked into his warm brown eyes. “This has been a good place for me.”

  “It’s good for him. His heart was ripped to shreds, but you are mending it and this is good and as it should be.”

  “He doesn’t let anyone close enough to mend much,” she answered quietly. Turtle River shook his head.

  “No, he mends. I can see it when he works. I see it when he is relaxed. He is my friend, just as you are, and your marriage is good. I thought it would be good. Give him time.”

  She nodded. “I hope someday you find someone to love again,” she said quietly as he walked to the door. He wore a buckskin shirt and she wondered what kept him from freezing, yet he never seemed bothered by the elements. He shook his head and looked at her as he reached for the knob.

  “No. It is not in the future that I walk with another. My road is alone or near friends.”

  “That can change.”

  He shook his head. “This is my life.” He closed the door behind him and she watched him through the window. He had none of the swift, purposeful stride of Travis, but walked quietly as if he had the day to wander, yet she knew he was headed somewhere and would be there almost as quickly as Travis could.

  She hoped he was wrong about himself, but he had a way of seeing things others didn’t see. He was a quiet, strong man, so good to her and to little Jacob. And he deserved more than the lonely life he led.

  For Christmas, they all kept their agreement to forget gifts, except for Jacob. Crystal tied a large red bow above the fireplace. Along the mantel she scattered the delicate ornaments she had so carefully wrapped and brought from Baltimore. Although it was not a
holiday Turtle River or Travis had known most of their lives, they seemed ready for a feast and a celebration.

  They had a huge wild turkey and the deer meat, and Crystal was determined to cook their supper without burning it. She had received valuable hints from Phoebe and Eloise Knudsen, and on the past three Fridays, during her luncheon recess, she had left her courtroom and hurried to the Knudsen’s house to have a cooking lesson from Phoebe. Eloise was younger than Crystal, yet she and Crystal discovered they shared a mutual interest in books. Eloise joined Phoebe and Crystal in the kitchen for the Friday cooking lessons.

  Now Christmas day was sunny, snow sparkling, and the men gathered at the log house while tempting smells filled the air. Crystal had risen before sunrise. She had bathed the night before and washed her hair, and for this festive occasion, she wore her red silk dress, tying her hair behind her head with a ribbon.

  The moment Travis came through the door and his dark gaze swept over her, she could see the approval in his expression. Then he crossed the room to her. He wore a white shirt and black denim pants and had his hair fastened with rawhide. He tilted her chin up.

  “Merry Christmas,” he said in a husky voice.

  Her heart thudded and her lips parted, her breath catching as she looked up at him. “Merry Christmas, Travis.”

  He leaned down, his mouth brushing hers lightly in a sensual, slow touch that ignited fires in her. She closed her eyes, slipping her arm around his neck.

  His arms banded her waist and he pulled her close, his mouth covering hers gently, teasing as he slipped his tongue over her lips and into her mouth. Crystal moaned softly, returning his kiss until they heard a knock at the door.

  When Travis released her, she opened her eyes. Feeling dazed, she found him watching her intently, his eyes darkened to blackness and pulling on all her senses. He touched her mouth with his fingertips and then hurried to the door. She straightened her dress, trying to pull her wits together, knowing she must look like a woman kissed senseless.

  Turtle River and Zachary entered, bringing cold air in with them, and Jacob began crying, holding up his arms and wanting someone to pick him up.