Stacey Kayne

by Bride of Shadow Canyon

  All three smiles vanished when the young women spotted her coming up behind Jed. She relished the fear she saw in their gazes before they turned and hurried away.

  “You’re late,” Jed said, drawing her attention from the retreating women. One corner of his mouth kicked up in a wry smile as he raised his hand to guide her down beside him.

  Rachell shivered as his gaze moved over her like a gentle caress, just as it had when she’d run into him earlier in the morning. But also like this morning, his eyes quickly darkened and the stern edge of his jaw flexed with tension.

  He resented his attraction to her.

  She dropped beside him, ignoring his outstretched hand. “I’m surprised you noticed my absence,” she clipped.

  As she glanced around the broad circle, she noted everyone’s elaborate attire. Even the men wore colorful sashes and cloaks. Many wore face paint and feathered headpieces.

  After a moment, she realized she was the focus of attention. She instinctively leaned closer to Jed.

  “Jed, why is everyone staring at me?”

  She looked up and found his eyes still trained on her, their color a smoky gray. His burning gaze warmed her body in a rush, making her forget about everyone but him. Lord, a body could die from the range of emotions this man made her feel.

  “Your hair,” he answered.

  “My hair?”

  “Uh-huh. Or it could have been the lethal glint in your eyes before you sat down,” he said with an amused smile. “Let’s test it.”

  He reached for one of her braids and pulled the leather thong from the end. Rachell’s breath caught in her throat as he eased his fingers into the side of her hair and gently worked them down, unraveling her long braid. Gasps and whispers broke out around them as he fanned the crinkled mass of hair over her shoulder.

  “It’s the hair,” Jed said in an easy tone.

  Rachell’s gaze remained fixed on the man now unraveling her other braid.

  “They’ve never seen hair like yours,” he said in a voice of pure velvet, sending a rippling wave of goose flesh across her body. “But then, neither have I.”

  Abruptly, he pulled his hand away. His eyes seemed to glaze over as his expression hardened.

  “Anyway,” Jed said, “you—”

  Before he could finish, a young Indian girl plopped into his lap. Jed laughed, talking in the native Indian tongue as he tickled the girl who couldn’t be more than five. When he’d tickled the little thing senseless, he sat her up in his lap. The young girl was undoubtedly a daughter of Running Bear.

  Family. Jed’s family.

  The girl’s wide brown eyes glanced at Rachell before she leaned up, wrapping her arms around Jed’s neck as she whispered into his ear. Jed laughed at whatever she’d said. He tugged on one of her black braids and he said something that caused her eyes to surge even wider before she looked at Rachell as though she’d sprouted horns.

  “What devious stories are you telling that child about me?” Rachell demanded.

  “None of your business,” he said curtly, as she’d said to him many times during the past week, but his silvery eyes twinkled with playfulness.

  Rachell stared up at him in amazement. This was not the Jed Doulan she’d come to know. She knew Jed had a tendency to tease, but this playfulness she hadn’t expected. Children were apparently quite agreeable to his disposition.

  He spoke again to the girl, then reached over and brushed his hand across Rachell’s hair. The girl looked questioningly at Rachell, before moving closer to Jed. He spoke again, taking the girl’s small hand and reaching it toward the hair draped across Rachell’s shoulder. The girl flinched as her fingers met the wavy fibers, as though expecting to be burned.

  “You told her my hair was made of fire,” Rachell said accusingly.

  “I was just going along with the rumor. The way those rippling strands capture the firelight, it’s not hard to believe.”

  Rachell glanced at the thick wavy mass draped over her shoulder while Jed spoke to the girl. The gold highlights in her hair did appear to flicker, but hair made of fire? She shook her head then reached toward the girl.

  The child froze like a startled deer at the sight of Rachell’s hand moving toward her. Rachell smiled as she stroked one of the girl’s black braids.

  The young girl beamed a happy smile toward Jed.

  “I believe you just made a new friend,” Jed said.

  “She’s precious. What’s her name?” Rachell touched her lightly on the tip of her nose. The girl giggled with delight, returned the touch then snuggled back against Jed.

  “Little Dove. She’s the youngest of Running Bear and, ah, Snow Flower’s seven children.”

  “She adores you.”

  “She’s too young to know better,” he said, again tugging on one of her braids.

  Running Bear leaned forward and said something to his daughter. Little Dove jumped up from Jed’s lap and scurried away. A moment later a group of women made their way into the circle, all carrying bowls and wooden platters of food. Little Dove walked straight to Rachell and spoke as she set a plate before her. She giggled when Rachell thanked her then went to sit on the other side of Running Bear, with her older brothers and sisters.

  Rachell watched the handing out of the other bowls and platters. Conversation hummed amongst the large group as men, women, and their children shared their meals from one large serving dish.

  Rachell glanced down at her smaller platter piled with meat, bread and what looked to be stewed weeds. Jed reached toward the large serving bowl in front of Running Bear’s family. She took a piece of meat from her overflowing plate and subtly scooted the wooden platter toward him.

  “Are you sharing with me?”

  She smiled. It seemed to be enough. Jed eased toward her and took a piece of flat bread from her plate.

  As she ate, she gazed up at the tall flames reaching toward the dark, star-flecked sky. Tall streamers of fire danced in the light breeze. Amber specks floated high with the rising waves of heat, blending with the stars in the black sky. Feeling an odd sense of contentment, she listened to Jed’s deep voice as he talked to Running Bear in his Ute language.

  A sharp shift in the wind blew a gust of warm air sprinkled with small glowing embers toward their side of the fire. Rachell shielded her eyes. Jed twisted toward her, sheltering her with his body from the smoke and hot specks of orange. His expression flinched, and she knew the sudden movement had hurt his side.

  The whirling wind ended as quickly as it had begun. Jed sat back, rubbed at the bandages under his shirt and resumed his conversation with Running Bear as though he’d done nothing at all. The protective reaction rekindled Rachell’s desire to be close to him.

  She glanced back up at the large fire, focusing on the wood beneath the transparent flames. A bright light glimmered from hot spots deep inside the blazing bark as the orange glow licked across the surface, surrounding the wood in shimmering heat.

  That was how Jed had made her feel, lost in flames, consumed by the strange heat he so easily evoked deep inside her body.

  Jed noticed Rachell staring at the fire with a heavy frown and sullen green eyes. She’d barely nibbled at her supper, the only food missing being what he’d eaten. Running Bear had made a comment earlier in the day about her small appetite. If there was anything small about Rachell, it wasn’t her appetite.

  “Rachell, are you feeling okay?”

  Her head snapped up as though he’d startled her from deep thought. Her blank stare told him she hadn’t comprehended his question.

  “Do you not like the food?”

  “Oh, no, I mean, yes. The food is…bland, but fine. I think I’ve become spoiled by your seasonings.” Her shaky smile lasted only a second before fizzling back into a frown.

  “You sure you’re well?” Jed asked with growing concern.

  “I feel fine. I just… I want to apologize for hurting your feelings this morning,” she said in a rush.

 
“Hurting my feelings?”

  “By pushing you away so rudely, when I certainly hadn’t been discouraging your…um, attention.”

  Stunned, Jed could only stare at her. No woman had ever apologized to him for doing damage to his feelings. The idea of any woman doing so was laughable. Yet he could see the sincerity in Rachell’s somber gaze.

  “I don’t bruise so easily, Rachell.”

  “You’re not still mad at me?”

  He was mad as hell. His anger was directed mostly at himself, because he should have known better. But he wasn’t about to tell her that. With both of them leaning toward one another to keep their conversation private, he was currently fighting the urge to pull her against his side and whisper directly into her delicate little ear, followed by a bit of nibbling.

  No.

  Her frown deepened as he searched for a way to answer her nicely.

  “What happened this morning shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again.”

  “Why not?”

  Ah, hell. That wasn’t the answer he needed to hear. “Rachell, we both agreed we want the same thing.”

  “I believe we do,” she said, the start of a smile tugging at her lips.

  “An annulment,” Jed clarified, as much for himself as for the surprisingly coy woman sitting beside him.

  “Yes. An annulment,” she agreed, still wearing that shy and incredibly enticing smile.

  “You’re Buck’s sister-in-law,” Jed added.

  “Yes, and you’re Buck’s close friend.”

  “Right,” Jed said, thinking that should have settled his reasons for keeping his hands off her, but she continued to smile up at him, making it damn hard for him to think of anything other than kissing her.

  “Jed.”

  “Yeah?”

  She leaned up, close to his ear. “I very much enjoyed your kisses.”

  Her breath smoothed across the sensitive skin of his neck. Her words caressed every sensitive point on his body. Hell and damnation if she wasn’t flirting with him!

  “Sugar,” he said, turning away as a smile stretched his lips, “do us both a favor and eat your supper.” He handed her the small platter.

  Pleased by the smile widening with each second, Rachell accepted the plate. “Thank you. I will.”

  She’d done her part after all, making it known that she wasn’t opposed to further intimacy between them. There had been nothing improper or brazen in her statement. She’d simply told him the truth. She had enjoyed his attention.

  She took a bite of venison, feeling a sense of strength at having spoken her mind, and wishing she had Jed’s bag of dried peppers. In the past week his cooking had been a treat, the spicy seasonings he used reminding her so much of home.

  Jed eased closer to share her meal and a warmth blossomed from deep inside her. She ate contentedly as she gazed about at the others eating their meal around the fire.

  “Everyone’s evening attire is so different from what I saw earlier. Much fancier. Do they always dress for supper or is this a special occassion?”

  “It’s a special occasion.”

  She waited, yet Jed said nothing more. He took his time in meeting her gaze. “Well, what is it?”

  “You.”

  Rachell frowned at his answer, certain he was teasing her, but Jed’s easy smile and steady gaze showed no sign of humor.

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yes. You’re their guest.”

  “And you,” she added, suddenly feeling quite self-conscious as she gazed out at the many eyes subtly watching her.

  Jed shrugged. “They’re used to my ugly mug.”

  “Your mug is not ugly,” Rachell said as she turned toward the deep thumping sound of a drum, missing Jed’s flashing smile.

  Another drum echoed the first from the far side of the circle, and then another joined in. A buzzing and tapping sound melded with the deep thump of the drums. A few men held two long sticks with deep grooves carved into them. They rubbed them across each other in a swift motion, intermittently hitting them together.

  Children who’d been playing in the shadows beyond the firelight returned to the circle, climbing into the laps of their parents.

  Jed’s face nuzzled the side of her hair. Heat burst through her body.

  “You’re going to enjoy this,” he said in the velvety voice he’d used this morning.

  Dear God, she was already enjoying it. His soft lips grazed the shell of her ear as he spoke, sending shivers down her spine, clear to her toes.

  “You’re the guest of honor, so pay attention, pretty lady.” He leaned back against a log placed behind him.

  Rachell glanced over her shoulder. Jed’s hungry smile filled her body with a new surge of heat and the urge to throw herself on top of him.

  His smile broadened and Rachell was sure that he’d read her thoughts. She silently cursed her inexperience at this type of intimate interaction, feeling her blush as she lowered her gaze to the shirt covering his long torso. It was hard to believe he’d been so close to death. He appeared relaxed in his reclined position, but Rachell knew his side must be hurting.

  “You keep staring at me and you’re gonna miss the show.”

  Rachell’s gaze snapped up to Jed’s face. His eyes shone with amusement.

  “My side is fine, sugar.”

  Rachell realized they were being watched. Running Bear sat beside Jed, watching them with a wide grin.

  An abrupt silence of the rhythmic clatter and pounding brought Rachell’s attention back to the center of the circle. Men wearing colorfully flamboyant costumes were gathering around the fire. Rachell had never seen anything so spectacular. Some wore great woven capes made of large colorful feathers and others wore animal pelts.

  One of the elders seated just past Running Bear’s family stood. His sonorous voice boomed loud, his arms moving in wide motions as he spoke in the Ute tongue. When he sat, the costumed men began a low chant that was joined by those seated around them. Their highly-decorated moccasined feet began to stomp in rhythm with their chants, pounding the earth on the low notes.

  The shells and beads on their clothing made a music of its own as they began moving around the fire. Soon the deep boom of drums echoed their stomps and other instruments combined with the chanting and rhythmic motions of their dancing. The orange glow of the fire seemed to dance between them, gleaming off metal bracelets, necklaces, and the hoops that pierced their ears.

  Rachell gasped as a man wearing the skin of a coyote broke from the moving circle of dancers and knelt in front of her. With the man’s head bowed, it looked as though the lifeless coyote was looking directly at her. “Jed?” she whispered, certain she was expected to do something, and frightened as to what it might be.

  “Coyote is waiting for your approval,” he said. “A pat on the head should do it.”

  Rachell glanced over her shoulder at Jed. He gave her an encouraging smile. She did as he said.

  The dancer’s head snapped up. The young man beneath the pelt flashed a brilliant smile then gave a victorious cry as he whirled around and returned to the moving circle of men.

  “Eagle will be next,” Jed warned.

  And he was. Rachell was honored to be included. She watched in fascination as the men skillfully performed different dances. The vibrations of the music seemed to move the ground beneath her and dictate the beat of her own pulse.

  She rubbed her hands over her bare arms, chilled by the cold night air despite the warmth of the fire.

  Jed’s arm moved around her and he hauled her close to his side. Her bare arms were instantly warmed, encased by his arm and strong body. Rachell leaned into him, absorbing the warmth he offered. “You were right,” she said a moment later.

  “About what?”

  “I am enjoying this.”

  “I’m glad,” he said, punctuating his words with a light kiss on the top of her head.

  Surrounded by tribal music and the arm of her brave, Rachell felt en
raptured by the simplicity of a perfect moment.

  Chapter Twelve

  It wasn’t long before Rachell’s eyes became heavy with drowsiness. She hadn’t realized she’d rested her head against Jed’s chest and closed her eyes until she felt his gentle nudge.

  “Mali—”

  Rachell felt the sudden tension in Jed’s body. His whispered blunder echoed in Rachell’s ears, her mind finishing the half-spoken name. The name of his late wife.

  Malika.

  “Rachell,” he said in an even tone. “Why don’t you go on to bed.”

  She surged to her feet with a speed that drew the attention of those seated around them.

  Running Bear leaned forward. “Imp?”

  “I’ve had a wonderful evening,” she said with a forced smile. “Thank you.”

  “Rest well, Imp.”

  She turned away, wishing that when they’d first arrived Jed had said her true name before passing out. Now he had an entire Ute village calling her Imp. Walking through the moonlit camp, she supposed that was better than being called Malika. A tension seized her chest.

  I should have realized.

  Tears fogged her eyes as she ducked into their teepee. No wonder he’d been pushing her away. Here they were, among the relatives of his late wife, and all she could think about was seducing him. She doubted her reaction this morning had been the trigger to his anger. He’d simply realized he was tumbling with a troublesome imp and not his pretty Ute wife, and he’d been furious.

  She wiped at her wet cheeks, then stripped off her festive dress. After carefully folding the fancy garment, she donned the simple dress she’d worn the day before.

  The ache in her chest doubled as she slid beneath the blankets they’d shared. She’d been foolish to believe he had actually been taken by her. He’d avoided her all day and had only sat beside her during supper because he’d had no choice.

  “Like everyone else in my life, he can’t wait to be rid of me.”

  And who could blame him? She’d not spared any thought for his feelings of having another woman among Malika’s family. Most likely embarrassed, guilty…furious.