White Dove

by Susan Edwards

  Rook fumbled for the buttons of her trousers. “Got that straight,” he whispered, nibbling on her ear. He pulled back, his fingers fighting the button holes. “Dang it, woman, a dress would be much easier.”

  Sofia’s husky laughter filled the room. She pulled Rook back into a small, dark closet that led to a cool dugout. “What fun would that be, old man?”

  Rook growled in her ear. “Ya wants fun, eh? I’ll show ya fun, old woman.” With a bang, the door to the kitchen closed behind them.

  Chapter Three

  Dove entered the barn, cringing at the high-pitched squeal of the hinges. Bright beams of sunlight crisscrossed the straw-littered ground, chickens scattered from her path with angry clucks while birds flew up to small nooks with beaks full of straw.

  Tilting her head to the side, she listened. The baby bears had cried long into the night but this morning, the only sign of life was feathered. Had Jeremy taken the cubs outside? Were they all right? If anything had happened… Fighting panic, she berated herself for not going out to check on them last night. But selfishly, she’d avoided Jeremy. How could she face him after that kiss they’d shared?

  Leaning against the rough wood, she struggled to calm herself. Control meant everything. It was the way of her life; it had kept her from panicking in the face of death. Yet as soon as she’d killed that bear, she’d lost that precious hold on her emotions.

  Now she understood why a good warrior always kept himself tightly reined. Without control, emotions ran free, the mind and heart clouded with confusion and everything changed. Poised in the doorway, ready to run from the source of her confusion, Dove closed her eyes. Flight or fight?

  “This is waslolyesni!” Stupid to let that brief shared moment affect her so. But the thought of facing the man who’d sent her emotions swirling like a hot wind stirring up great clouds of dust scared her. Right now, given the choice of facing another angry bear or having to look Jeremy full in the face, see the knowledge in his eyes that she’d hungered for him, she’d willingly take the bear.

  Animals she understood, men she did not. It appeared she did not understand even herself at the moment.

  Talking a deep breath, she whispered, “You are the daughter of Golden Eagle, once a brave chief as his father before him.” She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Jeremy is only a man. A white man who means nothing to you,” she muttered beneath her breath in Lakota.

  With quick, determined steps, she headed for the stall where she and Jeremy had herded the cubs yesterday. If she was lucky, she’d find the cubs asleep and alone. Berating herself for her foolishness, she vowed that as soon as she returned home, she’d seek her warrior, marry and forget Jeremy Jones. She’d had no problem dismissing all others who offered for her. He would be no different.

  Reaching the stall, she peered in. Her heart leaped behind its cage of bone. Jeremy lay on his back, his injured arm encircling the cubs who slept draped over his chest. His other arm lay above his head, fingers hidden by black strands of his tousled hair. In sleep, his features were relaxed, making him seem truly vulnerable.

  The unexpectedly sweet picture tugged at her heart strings and brought a reluctant smile to her lips. This side of the man could soften her hardened heart faster than the sun melting snow.

  If there was one thing good she could say about Jeremy, it was his tender and gentle way with babies. Wolf and Jessie’s twins adored their uncle. Watching him play with them, give “horsie rides,” tickle them and allow them to climb all over him always made something in Dove soften. It appeared his gentleness worked with cubs as well; the babies looked content and peaceful. They’d found a surrogate mother.

  Her shaky hold on her emotions weakened. Why him? Why did he affect her so? She set her tray down, planning to just leave it for him. Why wake him? He’d obviously had a rough night, or the sunlight filtering in from cracks in the old barn would have woken him long before now. But she knew she was lying to herself. She was taking the coward’s way out, but right at that moment, she didn’t care.

  Jeremy moved slightly, turning his head toward her, away from the bright ray of light. Dove fought an almost irresistible urge to slip inside and smooth a hank of hair from his forehead, stroke his shadowed jawline and dip her finger in the deep cleft in his chin. He was very tanwaste, handsome, and she enjoyed looking at him.

  Asleep, he looked as sweet and innocent as the baby bears, not at all the impulsive, stubborn, aggravating man she dealt with on a daily basis, the man who took nothing seriously, acted as though each day, each tussle with her was nothing more than a game. Even after he’d almost gotten them all killed, he’d acted impulsively and kissed her.

  Yesterday’s stunt should have proved how unworthy he was, yet she still found him overwhelming. Something about him drew her. Why? What was it? Her mind knew there could be nothing between them. They were unsuitable. He was white. She was Sioux. It didn’t matter that her siblings had each married outside of their tribe or that her mother, who was half white, had been raised in this world. For her it would not work.

  She could never leave her people and her beloved land. And she couldn’t see Jeremy giving up his life among the whites. Besides, even if he did, he wasn’t a warrior. Her future had been cast long ago. She had to be true to her path and wait for the warrior her grandmother had spoken of. But somewhere throughout this last winter, her enthusiasm for that warrior had waned.

  All because of this white man named Jeremy.

  Torn between conflicting desires, she pushed away from the stall. The gate creaked, and Jeremy woke with a start. Their gazes met, locked. Caught in his magical, enchanting gaze, Dove couldn’t break free of the sleepy gray-green irises, shaded as they were by controlled passion.

  His eyes fascinated her in their ability to change color to match his mood. Making him mad turned them dark as evergreen pines. Teasing him brought a bright sparkle to their depths, like dew on early morning spring grass, and fear wiped the color from them almost entirely.

  The sleep cleared quickly from his eyes. He pushed himself up, the movement displacing the cubs who immediately scampered to their feet. Straw clung to the stubble of Jeremy’s jaw and stuck out of his hair at odd angles. His disheveled appearance endeared him even more to Dove and that angered her.

  “What are you doing here?” He yawned and rubbed his jaw, then untangled himself from the quilts. “Come to gloat? Or rake me over the coals some more?” Sleep lent his voice a deeper, huskier timbre.

  Dove tipped her chin down, tempted to do just that. But he still looked tired, as if he’d had a rough night. That, along with the memory of how defenseless he’d appeared with the cubs curled beside him, stopped her. Even she knew when to draw the line and back off. He’d done his duty and more by staying out here all night. No one, not even she, had expected him to do that. “How is your shoulder?” she asked. The question just popped out. She frowned. The last thing she needed was to feel sympathy for him, or to let him think she was softening.

  “It’s fine. No more than I deserve.” He shrugged away her concern.

  Feeling the grip of her control slipping once more, she indicated the tray. “I brought you food.”

  Jeremy eyed her suspiciously. “Why?”

  “You did not eat last night.” Fighting the tender feelings welling up inside her, Dove deliberately sought to put distance between them by adding, “The stew was good.”

  Her stomach protested her lie, though she had no doubt it had been tasty. In truth, for the first time in her life she hadn’t been able to eat the meat of the animal she’d killed. She’d die before admitting that to him.

  Jeremy went pale, then a sickly green in the face. “I couldn’t eat—I mean, it didn’t seem right.”

  He voiced her own thoughts on the matter. Still she refused to allow herself to soften. She entered the stall and ben
t down to check on the cubs. “The bear was dead. Would you have us waste the meat and fur? What was done was done.”

  Jeremy glared at her. “Tough, aren’t you.” He leaned against the wall with his knees drawn up, hands hanging between them. He lifted them and held his arms out to the side, exposing his chest. “Well, go ahead. This is your chance to take some shots at me.”

  Laughing, feeling the tension ease from her, she shook her head. “Even I wouldn’t kick a man when he’s so low. And I’m not being tough. Just practical.” Sitting, she reached out to greet one of the wide-awake and frisky cubs. Her braids fell forward, swatting the animal on the nose. It swatted back.

  “Well, that’s something. I guess you’re right. But I don’t think I want to think about it.” He stood and went to the tray and lifted the toweling. At the sight of the steaming biscuits, he licked his lips. “Rook’s, I hope?”

  Dove bit back a smile. “Of course.” The last of her anger fled, leaving her feeling free to enjoy the moment of unexpected companionship. As her father would say, what was done was done. Thinking of Golden Eagle warded off all tender feelings. Men. Right now she could do without all of them. Including Jeremy.

  Needing to keep a barrier in place, she forced a measure of aloofness into her voice to hide the softening of her anger. “Do not thank me. Rook gave me no choice.”

  Jeremy lifted a brow. “Ah, now that sounds more like you.” Resigned sadness laced with a bit of bitterness edged his words and wound through her heart, making her wish she could take back what she’d said. But in the small stall, with the warmth of Jeremy’s body lingering on the hay, and his scent so near, her body hummed with awareness.

  Her gaze slid to his mouth and though it infuriated her that she wanted him to kiss her again, she couldn’t help but look—and want. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t have him—wouldn’t have him. In a few days she’d be gone, and he from her life. By the time she saw him at the end of fall when the children returned, she’d be a married woman.

  The thought depressed her so she busied herself with playing with the cubs. A low, grumbling sigh brought her head back up, her eyes back to Jeremy. He’d broken the biscuits in half and was slathering butter on them. “I’m starved.” He lifted the honey jar and hesitated, the pleasure on his face fading.

  Dove sighed. “Don’t be a fool. It’s there. Use it.”

  Jeremy poured the golden syrup over his biscuits, lifted one steaming half and took a bite. Dove watched his strong white teeth bite into the softness. He closed his eyes and moaned as he swallowed. His tongue snaked out to catch the crumbs. A bead of honey dripped down onto his palm. He licked it clean.

  Watching him repeat the process of eating a biscuit half then licking his fingers made Dove feel strange inside. Her body tightened and hummed with a crazy need she’d never felt before. Her fingers twitched in the fur of one cub, startling it. What would it feel like to have him lick her fingers and look at her the way he eyed the honey jar—with hunger and something she’d swear was lust?

  Her nipples tightened when he smacked his lips and bit into another steaming biscuit. He slid down the side of the stall, making her remember how he’d felt pressed along her front—every hard, strong male inch of him—how she’d slid so slowly down the front of him.

  Held spellbound by the powerful magic he had over her, Dove leaned her head back and closed her eyes, feeling his mouth moving so gently and tenderly over hers. She bit her lower lip, used the pain to stop this craziness. Everyone ate… But her body reacted strangely each time Jeremy’s tongue snaked out to lick his lips or his finger or his hand. He made her mouth water, tempted her to lean forward and taste the sweetness of his mouth. She peeked, praying he was done. He wasn’t. Another bead of honey ran down his finger. She licked her lips, feeling foolish for wanting to claim it.

  Living in such close quarters growing up, she knew the mating act brought pleasure, and judging from the sounds that came from behind her brother’s doors at night, it brought much. And if the simple act of kissing made her feel weak, made her lose control, what of the rest?

  Jeremy groaned as he popped the last remaining bite into his mouth. “This is heaven.” At the sound of his voice, the cubs abandoned Dove and clambered over Jeremy, crying hungrily, their small tongues seeking the crumbs on his lap, and the taste of honey on his fingers. Swiftly, Jeremy’s joy faded. “Maybe it isn’t that good.”

  Dove knew he was thinking of the price of that honey. Grabbing a handful of hay piled high around the wall, she tossed it at him.

  Mouth open, he glared at her. “Hey, what was that for?”

  Dove grabbed more hay and threw it with a smirk. “Henakeca! Enough! No more regrets. Especially when you look like—”

  “Like what?” He narrowed his eyes, his hands snagging a handful of hay each.

  “Nothing.” She felt her cheeks heat and refused to look at him.

  “Tell me. Must be good to make you blush.”

  “I don’t blush.”

  Hay flew back at her. “Yeah, then why is your face so red?” Humor replaced his regret and guilt.

  “Maybe because you’re irritating me.” Glad to have made him smile, she got to her knees and threw more hay at him. The cubs joined in, digging and swatting at the hay.

  On his knees, Jeremy advanced. He held his hand over her head and hay rained down on her. “Go away, Jeremy,” she giggled. Dove slapped his hand away but he pulled back, leaving her to fall forward when one of the cubs rammed into her from behind.

  With muffled shouts and laughter, she took Jeremy down, landing on top of him, his arm going around her to soften her fall. His laughter died. “Come on, tell me. What did I look like? A fool?”

  Dove stopped breathing as she stared into his eyes. “Like you really, really enjoyed it,” she said, her gaze dropping to his mouth.

  “I did. I really, really did. And do you know why?”

  His heart hammered beneath hers. “Because it’s skuya?”

  His voice dropped. “What does skuya mean?”

  “Sweet.” Her voice cracked, came out a breathless whisper.

  “Skuya.” His voice was hoarse, and his hand moved up her back to the back of her neck.

  Its low timbre shivered through her. He was going to kiss her again. She held her breath and closed her eyes when he pulled her head toward his. His breath warmed her lips. Yes. She wanted this. Wanted him to kiss her.

  The sudden weight of something jumping on top of her was startling, and she snapped her head up and around. One of the cubs had climbed onto them. The other butted its nose between her and Jeremy.

  “Hey! Ow!” They broke apart, each falling to the side with the cubs in between, crying and sniffing.

  Jeremy got to his knees, refusing to meet Dove’s gaze. “I guess these guys need to eat.” He reached for the pail containing the two bottles she’d brought with her.

  Dove knew she had to leave, to put some distance between them and regain the control that had carried her through the last few months. With her heart hammering in her chest, and those funny tugs and throbs between her legs, she needed to be alone. She felt vulnerable. Still, the last person she wanted to run into was her brother—or Jessie, or Rook, who was as sharp-eyed as any warrior. And if she left… She leaned forward and took the pail from Jeremy.

  “No. I’ll feed them while you go clean up. Better go see Rook while you’re at it. He wants to check your wound. Without giving him time to protest, she offered each cub a bottle. After one taste, the cubs sat back and whined unhappily, then nosed at the ground, looking for food.

  “They don’t like bottles,” Jeremy said, looking worried. “I got them to drink a little last night but not enough.”

  “Hand me that honey.” Using her finger, she smeared both bottles’ makeshift nipples with the sticky sweetness, then
returned the nearly empty pot to Jeremy. Unthinking, she licked her finger clean then glanced at him when she handed the pot back. He ignored the jar, his gaze riveted on her mouth. She bent her head to hide the tide of embarrassing heat as she recalled how she’d felt when he’d done the same. She didn’t dare meet his eyes for fear she’d see a reflection of her own thoughts.

  “Go. I can’t stay long. This is your job not mine.” Emotion made her voice harsher than she intended. Then Dove offered each cub a bottle. Immediately, both settled down on their backs to suckle enthusiastically.

  Jeremy slipped out of the stall and walked away, muttering. His annoyance at her success with the bears lingered behind him.

  From the corner of her eye, she watched him go. Two days ago she’d have found great pleasure in his defeat. Today, it made her heart ache. No man had ever roused her emotions to the extremes as Jeremy seemed to manage without even trying, without being aware of what he did to her.

  Whether it was anger or humor, confusion or disgust, when she was with Jeremy, she felt…something. He challenged her, made her lose control. He didn’t bore her.

  She groaned. She felt alive.

  Many warriors challenged her physically, but none challenged her mentally. None except Jeremy, but he wasn’t the one—couldn’t be. He could no more take a place in her tribe as a warrior than she could live in his world. The thought depressed her, and she knew she had no choice but to do whatever it took to keep the barriers erected between them.

  * * *

  Refreshed from his bath, some extra stolen time alone for which he’d endured Dove’s silent glare, and a filling noon meal of cold pork, warm bread and melted cheese, Jeremy felt more himself. Having the cubs accept their second bottle-feeding immediately, without the addition of honey, made him feel even better. After washing the dribbles of spilled milk from their thick fur, he left them fast asleep so he could resume his normal duties—helping care for his niece and nephew while Jessie and Wolf instructed the Sioux children. Of all his chores, this was his favorite.