by Unknown
While the coffee was brewing, Blair spread out the blanket before hurrying over to the water's edge to wash her face and hands, ridding herself of the grime that always seemed to attach itself to her whenever she rode.
Placing her fingertips on her chin, she slowly glanced about to see if she had missed any detail. "Oh, I had better get the rifle from the saddle boot. I certainly don't need it, but I don't want to give him anything to complain about either."
Blair had just removed her boots and stockings and had lain back on the blanket when she heard the Dun nicker.
Reaching for the rifle and rolling over, she waited until Adam could see her expression before she feigned her surprise. "Why, hello, Adam, I wasn't expecting you. Did you smell my coffee brewing?"
He dismounted and stood over her for a brief moment; his gray eyes were like icy shards and his mouth was clamped into a thin, white line. Not trusting himself to answer, he pivoted on his heel and led the chestnut to water.
The lying little imp! She knew all along he was following her. Hell, how many times had he found her trail and saw where she had deliberately waited for him to catch up. If she was trying to prove a point, she'd certainly done it.
Blair snuggled back down on her back, laced her fingers together and propped her head on her hands. So preoccupied with trying to act nonchalant, and unaccustomed to wearing short riding skirts, she forgot the length and crossed one leg over a bended knee and began jiggling her bare foot.
"I'll be happy to share my coffee. There is a cup in the canvas bag, help yourself."
Angrily, Adam whirled about and whatever he had been about to say fled from his mind. He could feel his eyes protruding as a surge of liquid fire ran through his entire body. All he could see was a bare leg, a silky white thigh, and lacy drawers that did little to conceal her rounded derriere. A lump formed so huge in his throat, if he could have recalled what he planned to tell her, he would have never been able to speak.
He quickly tethered the horse, dug the cup from the sack, filled it, then sat Indian style on the ground beside her, but away from the tantalizing view. He was just a mortal man and he only had so much self-control.
"You think you're pretty smart, don't you?" he grumbled, not quite trusting himself enough to look at her.
"Well, I made excellent grades in school," she quipped, though instantly regretting her derisive remark.
Adam rolled his eyes and growled with exasperation. "That wasn't what I meant and you know it." He blew on the scalding liquid and took a sip.
"I was just riding . . . that's all," she parried with a shrug.
"Sure you were," he muttered sarcastically.
"Why do you question everything I tell you?" Blair raised herself up on one elbow and stared at him pensively.
"Because you are a bothersome pest and everything about you contradicts itself." Then, an unexpected smile brought an immediate softening to his features. "But, just because you are a bothersome pest, it shouldn't stop me from admitting a mistake. This time, I was the one who was too mule-headed to listen to reason. I noticed when you stopped and waited on me to catch up, you always chose a place that would make a good hide-out. I counted three caves, and four ravines that several men could hole up in for weeks without being found, then it would take either blind luck or someone knowing exactly where to look. And," he spread his fingers wide apart and stared at them, "I owe you an apology for this morning, too. I shouldn't have tried to leave without you, especially after Tom Bastrop invited you to go riding. Your anger was justified. But my feelings have not changed about him, I still don't trust him," he quickly added.
Adam's apology had taken her by complete surprise. He seemed so angry when he first rode in. Blair was so flustered, she blushed and stammered, "V-very few people have ever apologized to me ... so I’m not sure if I know how to accept one gracefully. Rather than me rattle on and make a fool out of myself, let me just say, thank you, and I had just as soon forget it ever happened, if it is all right with you."
"It's fine with me." He seemed relieved to be getting off so easily. If she'd been any other woman, he would have had hell to pay. But then, how long had he known Blair was not like other women? He supposed it was the first moment they met. If he'd had any idea how quickly she would wind her way to his heart, he would have taken a chance with a bullet when she threatened to shoot him. Then, the memory of a well-turned ankle, a silky white thigh, and a rounded derriere came to mind, and he decided his fate might not be so bad after all.
Blair reached out and removed the tin coffee cup from his hand, then raised it to her lips and took a sip. A strange shiver of delight coursed through her at the thought of her lips touching where his had just been.
"Oh, I have something for you. I didn't know if you would accept my apology or not, so I picked you some flowers." He reached inside his vest pocket and removed three rose-shaped stones. "Peace offering?"
"Oh! Cherokee roses!" She reached out for them. "Where did you find them?"
"Back on the trail a ways. You call these Cherokee roses? They just looked like rose-shaped rocks to me."
"Oh, no, there is a beautiful legend behind them." She turned one about in her hand, studying its perfection. "I realize a geologist would explain that when the world was created these rocks were imbedded in the cliffs, then as thousands of years passed, the combination of wind, water, and erosion made these rocks look like roses. However, there is a Cherokee legend about these roses; it is based on the Trail of Tears."
"I would like to hear it."
"When the Cherokees and other Indian tribes were driven from our eastern homelands in the early 1800's, epidemics, starvation, and months of ; suffering took a heavy toll, and thousands died during the forced migration. Indian folklore states that God, looking down from heaven, decided to commemorate the courageous Cherokees. As the blood of braves and the tears of maidens fell to the ground, God turned the drops into the shape of a Cherokee Rose, a flower native to our tribe's eastern home. According to the legend, this is why rose rocks are so plentiful in this area, the end of the Trail of Tears."
Tears pooled in Blair's eyes and her voice choked with raw, unchecked emotion as other thoughts filled her mind. "And now we face another Trail of Tears —only this time, when they drive us from our land, where will we go? I was naive enough to believe our life here would never change. I was naive enough to believe the government treaty when it said this land was ours for as long as the grass grows, the water flows, and the skies are blue." Adam moved beside her and held her close. She laid her head against his powerful chest and cried. "When did the world end, Adam? When did the grass stop growing, when did ..."
"I can't explain it, Blair, and I doubt if there is anything anybody could say. ... It isn't fair, it isn't right."
"I realize the government is opening up the unclaimed land now, but you know as well as I do, within a year ... or maybe even ten, that land will be crowded and they'll look at ours and they'll get it. It'll be . . . like ants swarming . . . into the . . . sugar bowl."
Adam wanted to comfort her, he wanted to tell her it would not happen that way, but he knew any words spoken in that vein would be a lie.
She looked up at him through a sheen of tears, dabbed at her eyes and tried to straighten her face. "I'm sorry. I have no idea what possessed me to burden you with my worries. But I will have to admit, crying made me feel better." She attempted a smile. "Who knows, maybe ten thousand years from now, a woman will stand on this exact spot, and find my own Cherokee rose. I'd like to think the woman will know the legend behind the roses. Perhaps if we keep remembering our past, and the mistakes and injustices that have been made, they won't happen again in the future."
"Maybe so, sweetheart, maybe so."
The tense lines on Adam's face relaxed. "I have a good idea. When I got the cup from your bag, I noticed some fried chicken in it, and there were some other items wrapped in kitchen
towels but I didn't want to rummage. Since I am about to starve, why don't you go wash those tears from your face, and we'll have an old-fashioned picnic before we head back to the ranch."
"All right, but it won't take that long to go home."
"It was a good six- or seven-hour ride."
She grinned impishly. "The way we came takes that long, but all we really have to do is follow the creek for a couple of miles and it crosses the main road leading to the ranch. It's only a two-hour ride at the most."
Adam, obviously pretending anger, started toward her with a growl. "You had better run for your life, woman! When I catch you, I am going to turn you over my knee — something I promised to do when we first met! Dragging me all over the back hills of the Nation when there was a nice, wide road we could have ridden on!"
Emitting a playful scream, Blair started running, ducking and dodging whenever he came too close. Surprisingly, he was quite agile on his feet considering they were still tender. Finally, she had no place to go but in the water.
Laughingly, she pleaded, "No, Adam, please. I've had enough. Besides ... if you lay one hand on me I’ll . . . I’ll . . ."
"You'll what?" he leered, thoroughly enjoying their carefree game. He had never struck a woman in his entire life and certainly had no intentions of starting now.
"I'll scream!"
"There's no one to hear you but me," he said, chuckling diabolically. "However, since you asked so nicely, I won't paddle you . . . I'll throw you in the water instead."
"Oh, no! It's too cold!" She moaned with all of the melodrama she could imagine. "I'll catch pneumonia and die!"
Then her eyes widened with realization when he laughingly scooped her up into his powerful arms and started walking toward the pool. "Adam! I thought you were teasing. Put me down! Don't you dare dunk me in the water, it's too cold this time of the year!" Kicking her feet and trying to squirm out of his arms, she attempted to free herself, but his hold on her only tightened.
He playfully taunted, "I suppose you thought this morning's little jaunt was funny. I happen to think dunking bare-footed little girls in cold running water is funny, too. So, turnabout is fair play." He stepped to the water's edge, turned sideways and began a swinging motion, using her as the swing!
"A-one . . . a-two . . . a-three . . ." On the count of three, he intended to pivot around and set Blair on the ground; instead, she made one last desperate struggle and his hold on her loosened. Shrieking, she went soaring from his arms and landed in the water.
She surfaced, and gasping from the icy shock, flung her head from side to side, sending droplets of water flying in every direction. After finally catching her breath, she spied Adam, who was foolish enough to still be standing by the pool's side instead of running for his life. ''Adam Cahill, I’m going to kill you!"
After his initial shock, he sprang into action. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?" he asked anxiously while running into the water after her.
"No, but when I get out of here, you will be!"
Adam reached for her but she recoiled from his grasp, which sent her sprawling backwards.
"Stop pushing me!" she shouted after picking herself up again. "What are you trying to do, drown me?" She shot him a murderous look. "So help me, if I die over this, I'll come back to haunt you. I'll never let you have a minute's peace."
Remembering her Indian people's beliefs that they could come back in another life using a different life-form, she said, "No, instead of haunting you, I'll come back as a thundercloud and hover over you, and rain on you for the rest of your life. I’ll make you live to regret this day, Adam Cahill! Hummm! Throwing me in the water when I thought you were playing!"
When they finally reached the shore, Adam grasped her by the shoulders and forced her to look at him, although he was starting to become amused by the entire situation. Her threats alone made him want to laugh. "I didn't do it on purpose, Blair, it was an accident. And if you had not yanked away from me that last time, you would not have taken that dunking. Now, come on over to the fire and let's get those wet clothes off you."
He made the mistake of chuckling.
She wrenched from his grip and stepped away; her teeth were chattering so badly, she could hardly speak, "N-now y-you want me t-to remove my c-clothing? I d-don't t-think s-so!"
Adam's eyes narrowed and his breath caught in his throat. For modesty's sake, it made little difference whether she was dressed or undressed. The water had made her white blouse transparent, and her dark nipples could be seen straining against the fabric.
Suddenly, Adam knew why he had not wanted her to accompany him. He had felt all along that it was much too dangerous. Now, he knew. The danger came from him. Not physical danger, but it was a peril that placed their entire futures in jeopardy. He knew if he ever placed one hand on her, he was lost. Yet, he was powerless to resist. It would have been easier to make the world stop spinning.
Adam picked up the blanket and walked slowly toward Blair who stood perfectly still. It was as though she too felt the tension in the air.
He wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and, holding it snugly under her chin, murmured huskily, "Now, take off your wet blouse and skirt."
Blair reached up under the blanket; the skirt soon fell to the ground but after several unsuccessful attempts at unfastening the blouse, she nervously wet her bottom lip with her tongue and managed a weak smile. She felt a swell of panic surge through her heart. But it came from no threat other than Adam. It stemmed from his nearness, from the fiery sensation that emitted from his powerful, masculine body. Blair stared into the depths of his gray eyes and knew that this was the man she wanted. This was the man that would make her complete. This was the man who would fulfill every dream she'd ever dared to have. "The buttons ... are too small . . . and my fingers are too cold. You will have to unfasten them for me." Her pulse thudded loudly in her throat as she slowly raised her gaze to his.
They stood, staring into the depths of each other's eyes. A warmth spread through her and she could feel herself surrendering to him totally. It was as if a magical wand had cast an enchanting spell that left her nearly mindless, that left her completely at his mercy.
His hands slowly reached inside the blanket and led a heated trail up her blouse front. He started with the bottom button, and each place where his hands lingered to slowly, sensually unfasten each tiny button, her stomach, her breasts, her neck, a tingling of excitement jolted through her. Moments, or was it hours later? he gently tugged the blouse from her shoulders and allowed it to fall into a crumpled heap atop the wet skirt.
Then slowly, so slowly, his hands cupped around her neck as he lowered his lips to hers. It was a gentle kiss at first but quickly grew more demanding as he tenderly traced the inner edges of her lips with his tongue before plunging deeper to explore the honeyed sweetness of her mouth.
This time, she did not keep her mouth closed to him. Instead, she sighed in sweet submission and slid her arms around his waist to cling to him. Her tongue timidly fenced with his until her courage and boldness grew. Then, she initiated darting attacks of her own. But it was Adam who was in control of their lovemaking.
His lips consumed her as nothing had ever done before. Blair moaned softly beneath the ravaging insistence of his tongue inside her mouth. A strange, thrilling shiver seemed to take hold of her, making her entire body shake as his hands slid away from her neck. One arm slowly encircled her waist, the other hand moved up to tangle in her wet hair.
Gasping, she tore her mouth from his and flung back her head to draw a deep, rasping breath. To her surprise and delight, his mouth blazed a trail of fiery kisses down her throat, lingering in the soft hollow with its heady fragrance and wildly leaping pulse.
Gingerly lifting her with his powerful arms, Adam lowered her onto the carpet of soft grass,
Blair's head was spinning dizzily from the honeyed sweetness rampaging through her vein
s. Her conscience told her this was wrong, that what they were doing was supposed to be shared by two people only after they had spoken vows before God. But how could love given so freely between a man and a woman be wrong? Although no actual words of love had been spoken, nevertheless, they had been declared. Silent vows had been pledged the moment when Adam first took her in his arms and she entered them willingly.
She felt a delicious languor steal over her as her arms wound around his neck and her fingers threaded passionately through his dark mane of hair.
Adam was hot with desire. With one hand he loosened the strings of her camisole, then pushed aside the lacy fabric. His eyes darkened and his breath caught in his throat at her loveliness. Her skin was not the stark white he'd seen on other women; instead, her breasts were the color of warm cream. He cupped one breast masterfully, his thumb flicking at the dusky nipple that hardened beneath his touch as though it had a will all its own, while his mouth paid homage to the other.
Startled, her eyes flew open and her entire body trembled when his mouth left her breast and trailed downwards to her taut, firm stomach, then on to the tiny crevice of her navel where his tongue flicked in and out. Someone moaned passionately—and Blair was surprised to discover the sound had come from her own lips.
She wanted to make love to him, to feel his muscular body, to seek, to explore, to know him as thoroughly as he was learning her, but she felt too timid, too shy, and she also knew there was a lifetime ahead for such sensual explorations.
Suddenly, he left the warm embrace of her arms and it felt as though she was no longer complete. There was a burning fire between her thighs that demanded to be extinguished, and Adam was the only man alive who could do it. "No, Adam, please, don't leave me," she murmured huskily.
"Hush, sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere." He quickly removed his clothing and, spreading her knees with his knee, he lowered himself onto her.
Blair tensed against the probing firmness of his masculinity, not from reluctance or fright, but from innocence.