by Karen Kay
“There is always that danger. But do not worry. I have seen no evidence of bears here, and it is getting close to that time of year when the bears will be searching for a place to spend the winter.”
“I am glad to hear that.”
He acknowledged her with a brief tilt of his head. “I wonder,” Moon Wolf pondered, “if it might be a mountaintop like this where we could secure a place for us? It is far enough away from the white men’s prejudice that it might function as the perfect setting for us, but alas, it is also too far away from my own people, I fear. Too soon, we would be coveting the company of others.”
She nodded. “And I would miss my mother.”
He sighed and leaned back against the trunk of a Cottonwood. Picking up a blade of grass, he began to chew on it. “There must be someplace,” he contemplated, “somewhere here in this country where we will be welcome. Where is it, I wonder?”
She leaned back against the tree trunk as well, her head nestled in the crook of Moon Wolf’s neck. “I don’t know, my husband. But I think it is important that we discover this place, for there will be others like us, I believe. Others who wish to love one another despite the strict conventions of society. Perhaps we can light the way for them.”
“Perhaps,” he agreed, “but for now, I worry only about us. We must progress step by step. If there are others, we will lead them by our example. But first we must find a place where we are safe.”
“We will have to keep searching, then.”
Again, he inclined his head, pulling her in closer to him. “I think we will make camp here tonight.”
“Yes,” she agreed and closed her eyes.
Several moments passed before he observed, “Are you going to sleep so soon?”
“Hmmm, no,” she replied, though her eyes remained closed. “But it has been a long journey.”
He chuckled and, releasing his arms around her, came up onto his haunches, squatting down beside her. “You stay here and rest. I will get our things and prepare our camp.”
She sighed her pleasure at his suggestion and fell asleep at once, her dreams filled with the prospect of a home on a beautiful mountainside, her darkly handsome husband by her side.
A full moon had climbed high in the eastern sky by the time she awoke. She pulled the buffalo robe more firmly around her as she sat up and took stock of where she was.
Moon Wolf sat across from her, stoking the gentle blaze he had made. She allowed herself the delight of studying him unawares. He had released his hair from his braids, the locks falling down his back and around his shoulders. Moonlight played over his features, casting shadows over his cheeks and making him appear more phantom at the moment than real person. Light from the fire showed off the fullness of his lips, and she concentrated on those, remembering the way they felt against her own.
She drew in a deep breath of the fresh, cool air and sighed. Oh, how she wished he would kiss her.
As though she had spoken her thoughts aloud, he raised his head, his eyes searing into hers. He said, his voice hushed, “You are beautiful as you sit here before me in the moonlight.”
She sat up then and moved forward until she came closer to the fire. “And you, my husband,” she observed, “are handsome beyond compare.”
That seemed to gladden him, for he smiled. “I think that you compliment me,” he said.
“No,” she disagreed. “I speak the truth as I see it. Only the truth, my love.”
“Come you here.” He motioned to a spot next to him.
And she went, no questions asked.
She fell into his arms at once, the musky scent of him, combining with pure mountain air, an intoxication.
One of his hands came up to thread his fingers through her hair, though all the while he leaned her back against the robes he had placed next to him. “It has been too long, my wife, since we have sealed the pledge of our love with our bodies. Too long, I fear, we have been plotting the ruin of the whiskey trains without giving ourselves that pleasure which is ours, as man and wife, to take.”
“Are you only now becoming aware of this?”
He grinned. “Have I been so unattentive?”
“Hardly,” she replied, “although I have discovered myself studying you lately with great intent, I am afraid.”
His fingers came up to run over her cheeks, while with his eyes, he revered her. A half smile lit his face, and he leaned down toward her, placing a sweet kiss next to the pulse beat at her neck.
She moaned and squirmed.
He acknowledged the sudden desire in her by placing a stream of kisses to her neck, her cheeks, her eyes. He nibbled on an earlobe, while his hand moved lower and lower, over the delicate skin of her neck, to her breasts.
And where his fingers pressed, his lips followed, a sensual growl sounding in his throat. “You are like a vision come true,” he murmured between nibbles. “I think I knew, when we first met, all those years ago, that our paths were to be as one. Even then, when you were so very, very young, I desired to kiss you. Did I ever tell you that?”
She wiggled beneath the pleasure of his touch, and smiled. “No, you did not. And I think you have been remiss in keeping this to yourself until now.”
“We were both so young, yet I found the desire to kiss you strong within me.”
“And now?”
He issued a low growl and nuzzled her stomach, his fingers fast at work releasing the snaps which held the doming in place. Soon there was nothing but her skin beneath his lips and, unable to keep still, she fidgeted under the erotic rush he made upon her.
“Moon Wolf,” she pleaded, “love me.”
“I am.”
But she could not lay there so inert. And so, instead of meekly accepting his ministrations, she raised up onto one forearm and pushed at him with her other hand until he lay beneath her.
“I think,” she suggested, “that I would like to love you.”
Though he did not utter a word, his look alone urged her to continue.
First she removed his shirt, and while her gaze feasted on him, she brought her own breasts to his, touching him tip to tip.
He groaned and closed his eyes.
“Do you like that?” she asked in a whisper as she massaged him, chest to chest.
He drew in his breath. “I like it very much, I think.”
She came up to trace her tongue over the delicate skin of a warm, male nipple. “Do you only think so?” she teased.
“Know, I should have said,” he acknowledged. “I know I like it…very much.”
With her tongue, she traced a path downward, the rasp of his breath telling her better than words could that she pleased him.
She pulled off the breechcloth that hid the evidence of his desire and scooted downward until the warmth of her caress encompassed even the swollen part of him.
Again, he moaned, and the sound of his passionate response sent a shot of delight through her.
But she had no more than begun to love him when he raised up onto one arm, gazing intently down at her. He muttered, “And now it is my turn.”
“Is it?”
He simply nodded and, taking her in his arms, drew her down, his own lips rejoicing over the softened mounds of her breasts. On downward, he continued to kiss, over her belly button, to that secret moist recess between her legs.
“Hmmm,” he whispered, “you are so beautiful. I cannot get enough of you. And you taste like a fresh breath of air…” The rest was lost beneath his lips as he began to pay sensual tribute to her.
And Alys, arching her back, lay down, spreading her legs around him, opening to him, as only a woman in love can do.
She met her climax almost at once, and pausing only a beat, he joined his body with hers.
She whimpered in ecstasy, her body attuned to his as she lay beneath him. He pushed upward, giving her the desire she yearned for, and she accompanied his every motion, rhythmically moving her hips with his as though they performed a dance of desire.
He shifted onto his side, his body still joined with hers, and came up onto his forearm, staring down at her. Belatedly, he smiled while his fingers roamed over her cheeks, her neck. “I think that we love well.”
She could only nod, even now, the pleasure they were making with one another too much for her to trust in her voice.
And then, her gaze locked with his, she met with the liquid fire of her release. Moon Wolf watching her in wonder before he at last spilled his seed within her.
They lay entwined, their bodies moist from their exertion, their breathing unsteady. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they drifted, each one content to simply bask in one another’s space. And for a moment, as though one, they knew one another’s thoughts, desires, and passions as though they were one’s own. And how beautiful they each were.
Ah, yes, for a moment, if a moment only, they were as one, with no secrets between them. And in this instant, Alys knew there would be a place for them—somewhere. If they could not find it, they would make it.
For together, united in cause, they were more than each one separately, more than anything that this universe could throw against them.
Yes, she thought, they would create a home for themselves and for others like them. It was a promise.
Chapter 23
Bobby Thompson strutted through the streets of Fort Benton, young Abigail Flint on one arm and the snobby Emma on the other. Although Alys had only arrived home late last evening, she had made a trip into town in order that she might visit with the sheriff to find out all she could about him.
Alys spared a quick glance at the odd sight of the threesome there on the street and turned away, only to spin back around, staring…and staring.
Goodness. Had Bobby gone through some sort of transformation?
His style of dress had certainly changed. These clothes were of the latest fashion, not some homespun wear that his mother might have produced. His suit, a British two-piece, was a brown striped wool affair and was topped by a single-breasted cutaway jacket; his trousers were narrow and in a matching striped wool, while a waistcoat of a gray patterned silk hugged his waistline. He wore a winged collared white shirt, blue silk necktie, and black boots, and on his head sat a black felt hat with a high flat-topped crown and a narrow curved brim. With a pair of gray gloves and a cane in one hand, he might have stepped off a fashion plate.
Also, where had that mustache come from, waxed at the ends so that it curled up? The last time Alys had seen him, he had been clean-shaven.
And what were Abigail and Emma doing with him? Hadn’t they been of a mind, only a month ago, to ignore him?
Stunned, she brushed a hand over her eyes and looked again upon the little scene before her. “Well, I’ll be…” she muttered under her breath.
Not wanting to be caught staring, however, she turned away, but it was too late. He had seen her.
“Miss Alys.” It was Bobby calling to her. “Miss Alys, I’m real glad to see you back again.” Pulling Emma and Abigail along with him, Bobby approached Alys. “Your mother told us how you’d gone to visiting relatives. She didn’t rightly know when you’d be back, either.” Bobby drew level with her as he spoke. “I sure was hoping it wasn’t the breakup of our engagement that sent you packing…” His eyes pleaded with her for understanding.
Ah, so that was it. In her absence Bobby had called off their engagement. And in the process had attracted the two prettiest girls in the county. Well, good for him…and for her. One less problem to solve. Alys breathed out a sigh.
She didn’t dare let her relief show too much, however, not in front of the girls. After all, Bobby had a reputation to uphold. She laid her hand on Bobby’s gloved one and said, “Do forgive me, Bobby. One does not lose a fine man like you every day and…”—she pretended a sniffle—“I needed some time to myself. But,” she added, “I understand that it would never have worked. You in England and on the Continent with your estranged, yet titled family, and me here, stuck in this remote western town. Please,” she pleaded, “don’t tell me again that you would stay with me in this terrible little town…no matter what might come. I wouldn’t think of holding you back.” She laid her hand on her forehead for good, dramatic measure.
Bobby looked more than a little startled at the news of his new and titled family, not to mention his intended trip to the Continent. She only hoped that he would not call her out for it.
“Yes, Miss Alys, well,” he said. Taking his cue from her, he patted her hand. “I sure am glad to hear that you’ve recovered.”
The two women at his side listened to the conversation with rapt attention. Said Emma, “You spoiled our surprise, Miss Alys. Why, only this morning Miss Abigail and I were saying that we should ask Bobby to invite us to go to the Continent next year.”
“Do tell,” purred Alys, summoning everything in her to keep the tone of her voice level. Truth to tell, she failed.
Abigail, however, flushed. She offered, “Please do forgive us, Miss Alys, but when we heard that your engagement to Bobby had ended, we could not help but seek him out and try to discover more about his heritage. I hope you will forgive our lack of manners in not waiting until you returned. That is, before we approached him.”
Alys gave the girl a warm smile. At least her heart was in the right place. She patted the young girl’s hand. “Please don’t worry about me. I only desire that Bobby will be happy. I think he deserves it.”
Bobby cleared his throat. “Yes, well, I was also hoping that you could come down to the store later so that you and me could catch up with…matters…”
“Yes,” she agreed, “I would like that very much. Thank you, Bobby. Now, if you would be so kind, could you direct me to where I will find our new sheriff? I heard that he arrived in town while I was gone.”
“The new sheriff?” This comment came from Emma.
Bobby looked important. “Hear tell that he took the office next door to the tavern. Reckon that suits him, since he’s then at the right place at the right time, whenever he’s needed, that is.” Bobby gave her a look of concern. “What is it you’re needing to see him about? We’d be happy to accompany you there.”
What a lovely gentleman Bobby was. Alys gave her friend a smile before answering, “Why thank you, Bobby, but there really is no need. I have only a minor piece of business with him.”
“Fine,” said Bobby, “that’s fine, then.” He raised his hat in farewell, but before he left, with one girl still on each arm, he added, “Sure would like to see you stop by the store so that we can catch up on one another.”
She grinned. “I promise I will.”
“Then I reckon I’ll be looking forward to it, Miss Alys,” Bobby grinned back. “I’ll look forward to it, indeed.” And with that, he bent down to press a light kiss to her hand.
Charming, thought Alys. Absolutely charming.
The threesome turned away, Bobby leading. She watched the cut of their figures for the space of a moment before she, too, turned away, resuming her search.
So, the sheriff’s office was on the other side of the tavern? As Bobby had said, how apt.
She set off in that direction.
“I demand that you help me find and arrest this fiend, this Wolf Shadow…now!”
“Sorry, Lieutenant Warrington,” came a bored reply, “but I don’t rightly know as I see this man has broken the law.”
Alys, hearing the exchange, came to an instant halt halfway to the door of the sheriff’s office.
“What do you call attacking the bull wagons that are doing no more than traveling into Canada to distribute food and clothing to the Indians, Sheriff?”
A long pause followed the question. “Ever wonder,” the new lawman responded, his accent a slow drawl, “why an Indian would be attacking shipments of food and clothing?”
“The man is insane, I tell you.”
“Nope, I don’t rightly think so,” replied the sheriff matter-of-factly. “My theory is that this Wolf Shadow was a
ttacking these ‘supply’ wagons ’cause wagons they carried whiskey, illegal trade that the U.S. government has forbidden.”
“Are you suggesting—”
“I’d hate real bad to find out you was mixed up in all this, Lieutenant. And you with such a fine career ahead of you ’n all…” Sarcasm fairly stroked every word. “Now, see here. The United States government has sent me out here to enforce its liquor laws. And I aim to do exactly that. I’ll see them properly enforced, too…even if I have to fight the United States Cavalry to do it.”
“You can’t possibly think that I, or the cavalry, are mixed up in whiskey trading?”
A long pause followed.
“Why, that’s slander.”
“Nope. I’d call it fact. Might I suggest, Lieutenant, that you start looking real fast for another post to fill…somewhere else…if’n you aim to keep that ‘good career’ of yours intact ’n all.”
“Is that a threat, Sheriff?”
“Nope, Lieutenant. It’s a promise.”
The lieutenant’s voice raised up an entire octave as he uttered, “We’ll see about that. Just you wait ’til the rest of the town hears that you’ve taken up sides with an Indian! And you, a white man!”
The sheriff paused a moment, and she could hear the scrape of a chair across the wooden floor, followed by the sheriff’s quiet voice. “I side, when I side at all, with the United States government…and don’t you forget it, Lieutenant. Now, the way I see it, if’n this Indian’s helpin’ me to do my job, why I think I might give the man a medal. Yep, Lieutenant, the more I think about it, the more I like it. I might just do that…”
Alys could hear the slam of something against a wall. And somewhere inside a pistol cocked.
“You aren’t going to shoot me, are you, Sheriff?”
“I might.”
“Of all the high-falutin’, governmental hogwash. You haven’t heard the last from me, not by a long shot.”
“Naw, don’t suppose I have, Lieutenant, I don’t suppose I have. But you’ve heard the last from me. The next time I come after you, I’ll be comin’ with a warrant.”