He puffed the cigar again.
“Yes, ma’am, I’m a man who likes his freedom. Having to help you has been a real burden on me. I usually travel alone, you know. I’ll be glad to get to that fort and get rid of you.”
He watched her carefully but caught no particular response. She only kept working. His body ached at the fact that she was naked under the gown, and once after kneeling, when she stood up with her back to him, the gown stuck in her bottom, accenting the roundness of both hips. He literally groaned at the sight and got up, walking away to finish his cigar.
“In all my born days, I’ve never experienced anything like this,” he told her. “You’ve got me in one hell of a situation, Venado. I don’t even think you know what you’re doing to me.”
He walked farther away. He could hear her finish cleaning up, and suddenly he realized he’d rather be facing a grizzly than another night with the woman. He longed for a distraction—wolves, bears, Indians, anything! Anything but being alone with her for yet another long night.
He walked back to the fire then. She had added wood. She was doing more and more now, apparently aware, at least, of day-to-day duties and necessities. What was going through her mind, he could not even guess. She sat down and stared at the flames then, as darkness closed around them. Sage’s buckskin gelding was tethered nearby, quietly nibbling at grass. Again Sage’s senses were alert to any trouble that might be waiting in the shadows. Far off he could hear another waterfall. He sat down Indian-style across from Venado, setting his rifle beside him and leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.
“You know something? I don’t even think I ever told you my name,” he observed. “Maybe I did. I can’t remember. It’s Sage. Sage MacKenzie. But then you probably heard those men call me by name.” He frowned, watching her vacant eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if you hear at all, and then you’ll turn at the smallest sound, so I know you can hear. Now you’re cooking, and cleaning up, and washing yourself, dressing yourself. You’re doing well, Venado. I just keep hoping every day you’ll get even better. Maybe you’ll be talking by the time we reach the fort, and then I’ll know for sure what to do with you.”
Her eyes moved to meet his. She stared at him for several long seconds, then stood up, coming around to him and bending down, taking his hand and tugging at him.
“Now what,” he grumbled. He stood up and she led him to where she had her bedroll laid out. She pointed to it, then went to his own bedroll, carrying it over to hers and laying it out beside it as they had slept that first night. “Oh, no, not anymore,” he told her. “I’ll sleep sitting by the fire, little lady. There’s a lot of danger in these woods, especially from bear. I’ve got to keep my attention on the right things. And for reasons you can’t imagine, I’m not sleeping next to you anymore before we reach that fort.”
He bent down to pick up his bedroll, but her breathing quickened and she shook her head, pulling it from his hands and putting it down beside hers again. Then she hugged him tightly, as though afraid.
Sage sighed in resignation. She was afraid. She felt safer with him next to her. He pushed her away slightly. “Honey, I wish I could make you understand. I don’t have to be right beside you to protect you. Now you just go to sleep right there in the blankets I gave you. If you’re cold, you can have mine, too. I’m all right. I’ll just sit out the night with my jacket on.”
He turned to get his jacket and she tugged at him again, shaking her head. She opened her mouth, as though trying to speak, but nothing would come out. Her effort made him frown with concern. Her eyes were tearing and her breath was again turning to gasps.
“All right, all right. Calm down, Venado. If that’s what you want, I’ll just have to struggle with it.” He shook his head, sitting down on his own bedroll and removing his boots. He moved into it, fully clothed. The woman climbed into hers, then to his dismay she arranged the blankets so that they both shared all of them, so that she could snuggle up next to him.
“Good God,” Sage muttered. He lay there wide awake, staring up at stars that peeked through treetops.
Somehow he managed to fall asleep, but in the wee hours of the morning he awoke to find his face nestled against her breasts. She cradled him there in her sleep in an almost motherly fashion. One of his hands rested on her bare leg, and in that half world between sleep and being fully awake, all his senses and desires came alive as manly needs stirred in his soul. He was not fully awake as he nibbled at the fullness of her breasts and moved his hand up along the satiny skin of her thigh and over the round hip. She sighed deeply, moving her leg up even farther over him.
He was more awake then, but she lay there fully willing, warm and beautiful, young and tender. He moved a hand around and brushed the silken hairs that covered the most womanly part of her, and instantly fire ripped through his virile body. He trembled, all his needs awakened to unbearably painful proportions. How much was a man supposed to take? She was willing. Whether it was because she thought she owed him something, thought she loved him, or perhaps out of childlike curiosity and total innocence, he couldn’t be sure. He only knew she was not fighting him.
He moved the big hand up over her flat belly, pushing up her gown with it and reaching under it to caress a full breast. He looked at her lovely face. Her eyes were watching him, her breathing quickening. He toyed with the nipple, the agony of needing a woman tearing through him in pulsating waves of passion. He thought he read pure curiosity and innocent willingness in those violet eyes. She wanted to please him, her vacant mind somehow knowing what a woman did to please a man. But she had the look of a young girl who had never done this before, as though trusting him to know what to do, trusting him to be gentle with her.
“Woman, I don’t know what you’re thinking,” he told her, his voice husky. “But I’ve touched too much to stop now. I don’t…I don’t care for you the right way, though. That’s what’s so damned wrong about it.”
She leaned up and met his lips, closing her eyes. There was no turning back then for Sage MacKenzie, wicked and wrong as he knew it was. The morning was too sweet, her body too tender and willing, his needs too great. He returned her kiss with a groan, rolling her onto her back and pulling the gown off her milky white shoulder and opening it enough to reveal one of the luscious pink nipples of her breasts.
He trembled with need and delight, moving his lips over her throat and down to the succulent fruit of her breast, struggling to keep from moving too fast and frightening her. He wanted to ravage her, be wild with her like he would be with a whore. But he knew he shouldn’t. He lightly tasted of her flesh, gently caressing her breast and drawing its sweetness into his mouth, his heart beating furiously when she allowed him these liberties without objection.
His hand moved down to the soft hairs again while his lips lingered on her breast. His skin felt hot and tingly and his manhood pressed for release as his fingers explored forbidden places, finding there a velvety moistness. How long had it been since he’d tasted woman, touched woman, invaded woman? Now he would invade this one. He should be shot for it, but that didn’t stop him from moving on top of her. He didn’t stop to undress. He only unlaced his buckskin pants and unbuttoned his long underwear, pushing both to his knees, then rising up slightly to gently part her legs.
She only watched him trustingly, reaching up and touching his beard, then moving her hands down over his muscled shoulders and arms, waiting for him to take his pleasure in whatever way he would.
“I’m sorry, Venado,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t be doing this, but you got me at a bad time.” He came down on her, guiding himself into her. She gasped and arched up to him, but he had no real trouble invading her, making him wonder how she had lost her virginity. Had it been willingly, or by force? If it had been by force, why would she be willing now?
For the moment it didn’t matter. He groaned out loud as he pushed deep inside her. She closed her eyes, breathing rapidly, apparently feeling the physical side of their lovemaki
ng and enjoying it. That was good. He was afraid perhaps she would start screaming and try to get away. What would he do then? Force her to stay? How could he stop now? But she didn’t ask him to stop and he had gone far beyond the point of reasoning or asking questions.
He was lost in silken rapture, moving rhythmically into the moist nest that pulled him deeper in gentle, tight spasms. He reached under her hips, grasping them firmly, pushing into her with groans of ecstasy. She took him so willingly, beautifully, like a woman in love. There was none of the animal lust he experienced with a whore. Being inside this woman filled him with shuddering delight, and he drew out the intercourse for as long as his neglected sexual needs would allow, before finally spilling his life into her sooner than he would have liked. But it had been so long, and she was so utterly beautiful.
He lay beside her then, pulling her close. She snuggled next to him as though it had all been natural and right.
“My God,” he uttered then. “What have I done to you, Venado? I still don’t even know your name.”
Chapter Four
Sage awoke to the smell of potatoes cooking. His mind was foggy at first as he stretched and rubbed at his eyes. His stomach growled its emptiness and he sat up to see a fire already burning and Venado cooking potatoes in a pan over the fire. She was completely dressed and wore his wolf-skin jacket. She glanced at him and smiled.
The pain of guilt seared through him like a sword as it all came back to him. Sometime in the deep throes of dawn he had made love to her, for no good reason other than his own animal needs. He wilted back down to his bedroll, surprised he had fallen back to sleep and had slept so hard. He figured it must have been the total relaxation that comes from venting manly frustrations at last after going so long without. But the way he had done it tore at his conscience.
“You’re an ass, Sage MacKenzie, a complete ass,” he told himself. He got up then to go relieve himself, coming back and picking up his canteen to rinse his mouth and splash his face. He ran his hands through his dark hair and stretched again, afraid to look at her, his mind racing with the memory of it, the feel of her body next to his, the glory of tasting her sweet breasts, the feel of her silken moistness against his fingers, the ecstasy of surging inside her firm, young body.
She was beautiful, and making love to her was like something most men only dreamed about. She’d taken him with such sweet abandon, so trusting and giving. But he’d betrayed her. After all, he had no feelings for her, and somehow it didn’t seem right making love to a woman such as she without feelings.
He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see her standing there with coffee in her hand. He took the cup and she smiled eagerly. He thought about what a good woman she’d be if a man wanted a permanent one, sadly grinning at the humor of having a woman who couldn’t talk.
“At least she wouldn’t nag,” he muttered.
But the humor of it couldn’t outweigh the sorrow of the predicament he’d gotten himself into. It wasn’t just that he didn’t care for her in the right way and wasn’t the settling type; there was the very real possibility that even if he loved her and kept her, he could find out later she was someone else’s wife. She wore no ring, but if she had been taken captive, her ring could have been stolen.
She motioned for him to come over to the fire. It was a beautiful morning, and Sage chastised himself for sleeping so late. They should have been on their way by now. It was already getting warmer, and birds flitted and sang among the branches of tall lodgepole pine. Everything smelled of pine and the sweet, burnt scent of autumn. The aspen were a bright yellow now, and soon winter would be setting in. It was a bad time to have found someone needing help. What if she was from someplace very far away? It was getting too late in the season to be traveling great distances.
Now she was putting potatoes on a plate for him, along with some of the leftover bread from the day before.
“Looks real good,” he told her.
He took the food, trying to think as he ate just what he should do now. How did she feel? What did she think of their lovemaking? Did she even remember?
She sat and waited as he ate his breakfast, then came over and took his plate, setting it aside and kneeling in front of him. She reached up and stroked his beard lovingly.
“So, you do remember,” he mused aloud, studying the lovely lines of her face, the violet eyes. He sighed deeply. “I’m damned sorry, Venado. I never should have let myself do that.” He took her hand. “You’ve got to understand that I don’t have any feelings for you. I mean, not like a man who takes a wife. I had no right doing that to you. I took advantage of your mental state. That’s all I did. I’m a man full of sin and don’t deserve even being looked at by someone like you. Now I’ve gone and spoiled you.”
She leaned up and kissed his cheek, her eyes still full of curiosity and innocence, but there was something different as well. They shined.
“I wish you wouldn’t look at me that way, Venado. Pretty soon we’re going to the fort, and I’ll be leaving you there. Do you understand? I can’t keep you with me. I’m just not that type, and even if I were, I’ve got no right. I don’t know who you are, where you belong.”
Her only reply was to hug him around the neck. Never had he hated himself more. In all his years of getting into dangerous situations, he’d always found a way out. How was he going to get out of this one? And how did he fight the strange, new feeling she was stirring in his soul? It frightened him, this feeling he was having. He’d never felt this way before, and he told himself it was nothing more than guilt for what he’d done because she seemed so young and innocent. Yes, that was it. He just felt guilty, and that made him feel obligated to see she was taken care of. Still, he had already killed for her. He felt himself losing control of his own destiny, and he didn’t like the feeling.
He pushed her away almost angrily. “Let’s clean up this camp and get going. We’re losing time.” He walked over and kicked in the fire, refusing to look at her, afraid he would see a hurt look on her face. “You know, if you would just talk to me, it would help a whole hell of a lot,” he continued. He dumped the coffee over the hot coals to put them out, then pushed dirt over the fire.
The woman ran over and began folding and rolling up the bedrolls, appearing to be unaware of his remark and oblivious to his anger. She waited while Sage saddled his horse, then tied the bedrolls onto his gear. She had cleaned the pan with water and sand and stuffed it into one of the two large canvas bags full of supplies that were tied on either side of the horse.
Sage watched, always amazed at how every day she did more. If only she would talk. Was she demented? Retarded? Maybe she couldn’t talk at all. Maybe she was a mute. Whatever she was, she was growing much too dependent on Sage MacKenzie. She climbed up on the horse by herself, then looked at him, smiling again and beckoning him to get on. She was ready to go to wherever he was headed.
He walked up closer. “Why can’t you be ugly or something,” he said to her. “Why can’t you open your mouth and bitch at me about something, or tell me you belong to some other man? Hell, I wouldn’t tell him I touched you. It would be all right, Venado. I wouldn’t sully your reputation or anything like that. Out here a man and a woman can find themselves doing strange things, you know? I mean, it’s dangerous and lonely, and you’ve been abused and scared. I’ve been your protection. You don’t really owe me anything, and I don’t owe you. Just tell me where you belong, and I’ll take you there and not say a thing. You’ve got my word.”
She frowned as though she didn’t understand at all. Again she motioned for him to climb up. Sage gave up and hoisted himself into the saddle, and her arms instantly encircled him from behind, hugging him tightly.
“What a damned god-awful mess,” he mumbled.
Sage said next to nothing for the rest of the day. He covered as many miles as possible. He guessed they were no more than two days from the fort now—two days and two, maybe three, nights. The fewer nights the better, that
was sure.
He rode until dark, camping near a pond he knew well. It was full of trout, and he intended to eat fish tonight. This pond was so full of them, all a man had to do was wade in, reach down, and catch a couple with his bare hands.
He tied his horse and unloaded his gear, still saying nothing to the woman, who immediately began making a place for a camp fire and gathering wood. Sage took off his moccasins and rolled up his buckskin pants, then pulling up the legs of his long underwear, he waded into the pond to his knees.
He bent over then, waiting quietly to feel one of the big fish brush his leg. The woman ran to the edge of the pond then, and he put up his hand.
“No. Stay back,” he told her in a rough whisper. “Don’t come in.” He bent lower, then suddenly his hand speared into the water and in a split second came out again. He threw a fish onto shore and the woman jumped back, then looked down at the jumping, wiggly creature and clapped her hands, looking over at Sage and smiling. He realized it was all like a game to her as she turned to wait for him to catch another.
He waited again, and after several unsuccessful attempts, he finally caught one more. He waded out then as the woman danced around the fish like an excited little child.
Sage couldn’t help laughing, and her own smile was so bright he thought she might break out laughing aloud herself. But no sound came from her throat. She ran up to him and hugged him and he whirled her around. Her face turned up to his, and in the next moment he found his lips on hers.
The fire ripped through him again as she returned the kiss with young passion. She seemed to crave his touch, perhaps finding in it some kind of safety and protection.
“Damn you,” he told her then, holding her close and kissing her hair. “What are you doing to me, Venado? I’d made up my mind I wasn’t going to repeat what I did last night. Now here you are making me crazy again—crazy as you.” He pushed her away gently. “Come on. I’ll fillet those fish and we’ll have us a nice supper—something different from rabbit and beans, huh?”
Sweet Mountain Magic Page 5