by Karen Kay
“Even then. You are still innocent, you are not looking at the far-reaching consequences of this, I think.”
She decided not to reason with him; he appeared to be beyond all that. Instead, glancing up at him, she pleaded, “Please, this is something that a husband and wife should experience together.”
But he ignored her as though she hadn’t spoken, going on to say, “You deserve a man who will love you all your life, one who will treasure you and take care of you and be there for you every morning and every evening that you should live. This is what you should have. Not one who can promise you no tomorrow.”
With her back still arched so enticingly, she placed her hands on his stomach, letting them slide down to his trousers. “Who said I want all those promises? And who are you to protect me?”
“I should be like a brother to you more than a husband,” he responded. “In that way I can look out for you and take care of you.”
She backed up slightly. “A brother? Moon Wolf, are you trying to tell me that you care for me only in the way of…a sister?”
He winced. “Perhaps a brother was not the right comparison. Maybe I should have said—”
She didn’t wait for him to finish. “If that is true, then did you only marry me because of your sense of responsibility for me?”
“Saa, no. We have been through this before. I only said brother because it is how I should feel, not how I do feel.”
However, Alys could not be so easily comforted. “But you said—”
“Enough!” A growl sounded deep in his throat, and though he might have been hesitant at first, he did not fail to pull her in close to him. That he also rose up onto his knees before her, letting her feel the entire length of his masculinity, gave her some comfort.
Still…
She sighed while he began to shower her with kiss after kiss, one hand rubbing over the rosy tips of her breasts, the other pulling her in toward him. He kissed her lips, her eyes, her throat, whispering, when he could at last come up for breath, “Does this look to you to be the offerings of a man who feels the same kind of affection that he might for a sister?”
“But Moon Wolf, I would know if you—”
“Sh-h-h.” He drew her even closer, if that was possible, knee to knee, chest to chest, the exotic feel of his desire engraved upon her. Again, she tugged on his trousers. But he didn’t pay her any attention. Leaving off, he pressed his face into her hair, inhaling deeply. “Know that I care for you,” he murmured, “have always done so from the first moment that you saved me and my sister. It was a bad likeness, that is all. I do not think of you as a sister. I never have. That was my point. Now, no more of this talk.” His lips sought out hers again, raining kiss after kiss upon her—her cheeks, her neck, her breasts.
And she moaned, caught up in the marvel of him. She was his, he was hers, and it didn’t matter if she had a marriage certificate to prove it.
Reaching out, she tugged on those trousers, unbuttoning them at last, managing to pull them down until the full length of him fell against her. Her knees went weak without her being consciously aware of it. He held on to her.
She whispered, “You are big, my husband. But you will show me how this is done?”
He sighed against her mouth. “I will teach you, someday.”
“And will you fit, I wonder?”
“Your body has been made for this. But enough of this. I will not plant my—”
“Oh, Moon Wolf,” she cried, unwilling to let him finish, “teach me well.” And as the incredible intoxication of him engulfed her, she came to a realization: she would hold on to this man, no matter what the future held.
It didn’t matter what he said; it didn’t matter that he tried so gallantly to save her from himself. His actions alone spoke more readily than any words could have. He wanted her, too.
What she was doing was good, she thought. So very, very good. And as she surrendered herself to him, letting the warmth of their mutual fervor wash over her, she vowed that she would make this man change his mind.
Alys was no fool. She knew the treasure that she held.
He might try to walk away from her after this—for her own good, as he put it—but she would never let him go. Not ever. He had said he was committed to her.
She aimed to keep it that way.
Chapter 12
“You say that he married you?”
Alys nodded as she stood at the foot of her mother’s bed.
“He’s always been such a kind man. I liked him from the first moment I met him.”
“Then you’re not upset that I…that he and I…”
“Land sakes, child, why would I be upset? You should know me better’n that.”
Alys rushed forward to hug her mother. “Of course I do, it’s only that I couldn’t be certain that you would be happy about a marriage between us.”
“Better him than that horrible Lieutenant Warrington who keeps coming around here.”
“Yes, Mama, I agree. So very much better. Mama, how did you ever meet Moon Wolf? Neither of you have told me.”
Ma Clayton leaned back against her pillows, the look in her eyes dreamy as she said, “One day while I was working in the caves, I heard a strange sound down in one of the tunnels. I followed it, which led me to him. Almost blew his head clean off, that day. But something stopped me. And that wolf of his bared his teeth at me, snarling so much, I was afraid I was going to have to shoot him, too. Talked me into putting down my gun, even with that wolf staring at me. That’s when I knew I liked him.
“Explained to me right off who he was and what he was using the caves for. Told him I’d help him as best I could. And so I did for a while, but then I took ill and he’s been on his own this past year.”
“Mama, I didn’t know that you’d been helping Moon Wolf. What else don’t I know about you?”
“There’s probably quite a bit, child, probably quite a bit, indeed.”
“So tell me more, how did you help him?”
Ma Clayton gazed upward. “Them were exciting times, Alys,” she said. “Right exciting times. I’d listen for news of those bull trains, I’d try to find out what supplies they had on them, when they were planning to leave.”
“Well, that explains why one time he asked me to glean some information for him.”
“That’s right. Of course I did all this before he perfected his disguise. Now, he can go almost anywhere in the fort with complete impunity. But it wasn’t always like that.”
“You must miss the excitement.”
Her mother grinned. “Why, I believe I do. But you didn’t come here to discuss the first time I met Moon Wolf. I think we had better talk about your problems. Let me understand you completely. Are you telling me that the marriage has not been consummated?”
“I don’t think so.” Alys looked away.
“You don’t think so.” Old Ma Clayton set her daughter away from her, giving Alys a sharp glance at the same time. “I think we had better have a long talk.”
Alys sighed. “Mama, there’s no need. I’ve told you all there is to tell.”
Her mother sent her a shrewd look. “All?”
Alys pulled a face. “Perhaps not all.”
“Well, it seems to me that you’d better tell me all of it. Ain’t seen you quite this huffy in a long spell.”
Alys could feel herself flushing. “Mama, I don’t think I could tell you about the more…more graphic…after all, you are my mother—”
“And who else are you gonna tell?” Ma Clayton grimaced. “I can see we should’ve had this talk long ago. Guess it’s as hard for me to broach the subject as it is for you. Reckon, too, that I haven’t been looking at you as full grown, and I’m deeply sorry about that. Now, tell it to me straight—all of it.”
Alys frowned, breathed deeply, shifted her position once, then again, finally managing to say, in a small voice, “Moon Wolf married us, yes…” She glanced up quickly. “Not that we have a certificate or anything
.”
“Couldn’t get one here, near as I can tell. Don’t make no difference, though. Not to the Indians. Now, stop looking so flustered and tell me the whole story.”
Another deep sigh. “He doesn’t want to get me pregnant. Because his life is constantly in danger, he is afraid that if he is not there to protect me, that his child and I would be ridiculed, both here and with his own people. Reckon he figures that if he were there with me, we could live with his people.”
Ma Clayton nodded thoughtfully. “Indian people don’t carry such a powerful hatred as do the white people in these parts. Don’t know why. Seems to me they have more reason.” She shrugged. “Don’t matter, though. Go on with your story.”
“Well, he couldn’t commit the act that would…well, that is to say…we couldn’t…”
“Indians marry in only one way—don’t rightly see how you could have avoided that one.”
Alys stared straight down at the floor. “We didn’t get around it, at least not completely.”
“Now you’ve gone and lost me again. Did the man make love to you or not?”
Alys chanced a swift glance up at her mother. “Sort of.”
Ma Clayton lifted her eyebrows. “He is capable of it, isn’t he?”
“Yes, Mama, he is.”
“Then land sakes, child, what’s the problem?”
He…he didn’t violate me.”
“I’m right glad to hear that, but I don’t need to know what he didn’t do. What did he do?”
“I’m getting around to that.” She squared off her shoulders and took a steadying breath. “He used…ah…other means to gain satisfaction for me without actually joining the two of us in body.”
“Hmmm. Now how could he have?…” Her mother’s face brightened. “Had you laid out like a banquet, did he?”
“Mama!”
“Goodness, child, there’s nothing wrong with what he did. Don’t mind saying he’s being real gentleman-like. But that’s not the problem, is it?”
“No, it’s not.” Alys felt the blood coursing through her, swift and fast; felt also the dark red stain of embarrassment spreading down onto her chest, her arms. She raised her eyes briefly to meet her mother’s, saying, “That was the wonderful part.”
“Well, can’t say as that surprises me none. I was once young and impulsive, too.”
“Mama!” Alys felt herself burning up with humiliation. Still, she had come this far. “But that’s all we’ve done. Nothing more. He gives me satisfaction and then leaves me to run off to that darned waterfall, staying away from me for hours on end.”
“Hmmm.”
“And no matter how worked up I get him—I have attempted to flirt with him—he won’t go any farther.”
“Right stubborn young man.”
“He is that.”
Ma Clayton’s eyes sparkled briefly before she offered, “Now, I don’t have a mind to making you feel uncomfortable, but I don’t rightly see what the problem is, child.”
“Mama, he gets no satisfaction from our union…only me.”
“Can’t say as I’ve ever heard of that before, and especially from a newly wedded husband. Man must have a will of stone.” She grinned, then, and, sitting forward in a conspiratorial fashion, said, “There is something you can do about it, though, if you’ve a mind to.”
Alys pouted, “I told you, I’ve already tried to seduce him. It always ends the same way.”
“Dad-blame it, child, I’m not talking about simple seduction. What I’m thinking of is more than that. Now, if you’re of a mind to have him, I think this might do the trick.”
Alys blinked twice. “You know of something I could do?”
Ma Clayton winked. “Sure as fire.”
Alys slowly smiled, the expression completely wicked. And bringing her head in closer to her mother’s, she commented, “Then what are we waiting for?”
“I don’t know, child. Don’t rightly know. Now here’s what you’ve got to go and do…”
Moon Wolf trod back toward the cave, carefully avoiding the slippery rocks and the moss-filled crevices. On his shoulders, he carried the meat of a buffalo calf that he had run down and slaughtered. He had been happy to find it, too, needing the activity to keep his mind from other pleasant, yet forbidden things.
Little Brave Woman. His Alys.
He grimaced.
Just how much of her sensuality he could take he was uncertain, but he congratulated himself on his control.
The fact that his body was healed—which allowed him to spend less and less time with her—helped, of course. But he would not always be able to ignore her. He only prayed that when that day came and he could no longer offer resistance, he would have long since put the Wolf Shadow to rest.
In the meantime…
Makoyi trotted along beside him, and Moon Wolf glanced down at his companion. “You cannot possibly be hungry,” he complained to the animal. “I thought you’d had enough buffalo this day to last you a full moon.”
Makoyi paid him no notice, except to raise his tail a little higher and dart a yellow-eyed look at his master. He trotted on ahead.
It was late afternoon, the sun still bright despite the fact that it had already started its descent in the western sky. The air hung warm and heavy with moisture from the waterfall up ahead.
Perhaps it was the waterfall and its noise that were to account for the mistake. Perhaps not. No matter—Moon Wolf should have been more aware that someone awaited him. His senses should have alerted him; they did not.
But maybe he should not have blamed himself too much. After all, since he had first learned of the caves, he had never encountered another soul in this place.
High hills, canyons, and large valleys hid the caverns from all sides; the waterfall, as well, made the caves inconspicuous. Perhaps Indians had once known about this area, but, no mistake, they came here no more.
He felt good and might have started singing his war song had he not so suddenly come upon her.
She lay there in the sun, next to the pool of water…stretched out naked. He stopped perfectly still and stared for a very long time, any hint at rationality deserting him in an instant.
Had she seen him?
Quickly, not wishing to be caught, he ducked down behind a bush, peeking out in secret to inspect her.
Her long brown hair fell gently over her shoulders and to the side, the ends dipping down into the water, where the strands rippled as though they kept time with the rhythm of the water.
She had bent one leg at the knee, the further one from him, the other laid out straight, so that her femininity was not hidden from him.
He felt himself responding to the sight of her, too, and knew he should announce his presence, leave, or simply ignore her and enter the cave.
He did none of those. Crouched down, he was as incapable of movement as he was of changing the color of his skin.
Her back was slightly arched, pressing her full breasts outward and up at an enticing angle. And her head tilted back as though she were in communion with Sun.
One arm lay outstretched, her hand lazily dipping into the water, her other held high above her head.
Had he ever seen a sight so beautiful? Haiya, he did not think so.
Suddenly, she brought one of her arms up to shield her eyes and glanced over toward the bush where he hid.
Perhaps he had stared too long, knowing that a human could feel the attention of another upon him. Deciding he had been discovered, he stood up.
He caught her glance and stared at her, noting that her eyes watched him with a keen and observant curiosity.
She asked, after a time, “What do you have there?”
“Where?” he asked, looking down at himself to see if he were once again embarrassing himself. He chided himself. “Aa,” he gazed over his shoulder, “you mean this buffalo meat here?”
She smiled, and he caught her look of predatory delight. He tensed slightly. What was she about this day?
Still, when she called out, “Come closer,” he did exactly as she asked.
“Why don’t you put the meat in the cool water here beside me so that it will keep for a little while? That way you could come here and keep me company.”
Again, as though she held rein over his determination, he paced toward her. Then, bending down, he placed the meat in the shallow water beside her.
He squatted close to her head, and looking down at her, he asked, “Have you been swimming?”
“Not yet. I’ve been waiting for you.”
He scrutinized her face, searching out, there within her eyes, a hint of her purpose. He feared she intended something that would bode ill for his resolves.
She continued, “I thought you might like to go swimming with me today.”
He bent further toward her. “A good idea. But we must first see to the meat.”
She smiled lazily at him. “It’ll keep where it is, at least for the short amount of time we will be here at the pool.”
He slid his gaze downward, over the rest of her, from her face to the very tips of her toes, stopping at each and every curve along the way, a hunger beginning to build within him. “Ha’,” he observed, “I think you might have more on your mind this day than a simple swim.”
Her smile was oh, so seductive and so very, very bewitching. She said, “What makes you think so?”
He shook his head, wondering if she knew to what lengths he went to ensure that she remained pure? Did she realize the self-control that it took him to keep himself from her?
She might not, he answered his own question. She was still so very innocent, and he had yet to show her the ways of how to please a man.
The thought of that, of how she might pleasure him, however, and how she might very well go about it, caused a thin film of sweat to break out on his upper lip and he tried to suppress the instantaneous thirst that such thoughts provoked.
Perhaps a cold bath in these waters might cool his desires—and perhaps hers, too.
He stood up, not even bothering to hide the evidence of his fascination with her. Soon, the frosty waters would have their way with him, and he would be able to regain his dignity. He gave her a brief glance, his eyes recklessly ransacking her nude form, as he would permit only his eyes to do. He mentioned, “I do not swim in any clothes.”