Finally they came close enough for her to hear Johnny’s squeals and laughter. Gabe let him hold one rein, and the boy snapped it up and down, already wanting to be a “big man.” Three years old. She had never dreamed he might understand these things yet, would never have considered putting him on a horse or letting him pretend to drive a wagon. These were things a boy needed a father for, and Gabe had a way with little boys. He treated Johnny like his own—
She closed her eyes, again fighting the thought of what a good father the man would make, telling herself not to let the pity she felt for Gabe, because he had lost his own son in such a gruesome way, run away with her. After a few more minutes the wagon pulled in front of the depot, and Gabe looked up at her.
“It’s getting hot,” he told her, climbing down and lifting Johnny from the wagon. “I’ll gather more rocks tomorrow morning. I hope you don’t mind my letting Johnny hold a rein and do a little driving of his own.”
Faith laughed. “Well, if he wants to think he was really driving, I suppose there is nothing wrong with that. Lord knows he’ll need to learn someday anyway.”
“I’ll take the wagon over to the spot where you said you wanted the rocks piled and begin unloading,” Gabe told her. “Just give a call when lunch is ready.”
For a fleeting moment Faith thought how they were almost living like man and wife…except for one thing. “There will be no lunch until I get down from this roof. The ladder cracked and I’m afraid to use it.”
Gabe had already started to climb into the wagon. He turned, climbed back down, and walked over to where she sat on the edge of the roof. He checked the ladder, set it aside, and looked up at her, smiling. “That roof isn’t all that high. Why didn’t you just jump down?”
Faith scowled. “And break a leg? No, thank you. Besides, I’m kind of afraid of heights. It looks a lot farther down from up here than it does from down there.”
He reached up, still grinning. “Come on. I’ll catch you.”
She studied the distance. His arms certainly were a lot closer than the ground, tall as he was, and she had no doubt he was strong enough to catch her. Still, that meant she’d be in those arms. “Just drag something over I can climb down on,” she protested.
He shook his head. “This is a lot quicker. Just jump down and get it over with.”
She sighed, handing down the bucket of nails first. She leaned forward over the edge then, and Gabe laughed and shook his head.
“Turn around. Feet first. Scoot down off the edge and let go. I’ll catch you. Trust me.”
Trust you? She turned around, scooting down so that her feet hung off the edge. She was not even aware that her dress had caught on a shingle and was pulled up as she scooted down, so that Gabe saw her slips and caught a glimpse of her ruffled bloomers.
Little did she know that Gabriel Beaumont had been fighting his own desires, telling himself this independent, bossy white woman was the last type of woman he should set his sights on. But there was no fighting the beauty beneath all that rough way about her, the real woman she tried to hide. He reached up. “Come on. You will not fall. I promise.”
Faith let go, and in the next moment strong arms came around her waist from behind. She waited for him to set her feet on the ground, but instead he held her tight in a grip that told her she’d be helpless if he decided to do anything more. She grasped the hard rock of his forearms that were wrapped around her from behind. “You can put me down now.”
“I am well aware of that.”
Faith frowned. “Then why don’t you?”
He lifted her a little higher, and in the next moment she felt his lips at the side of her neck. He kissed and licked her there, sending a fiery tingle through her blood, but also shocking her.
“Gabe—”
His lips were at her cheek. Why was she turning her face toward him? “Gabe, don’t—”
His lips were on her mouth, and her own lips parted. His kiss burned deep, and one strong hand moved to grasp her breast.
It had been so long! So long since she’d allowed any such feelings, since she had truly wanted a man. But not this man—it shouldn’t be this man. Yet why did it feel so wonderful? Johnny had never made her feel like this. It was only the first few times they were together that she had wanted it as much as he, that she had truly enjoyed her womanliness, yet even then he had been quick and forceful. Gabe was also being forceful, wasn’t he?
No, there was something different about this. It was as though he could read her needs, as though he’d waited for just the right moment. She sensed that if she truly wanted him to stop, he would. Johnny never stopped, never cared what her own wants and needs were. The trouble was, she should want Gabe to stop. This was not the kind of man she should desire. Maybe this was just a case of being too long without a man, too long lonely, too grateful for how he had saved Johnny’s life, too relieved to have the help…and perhaps too overwhelmed by his virility, his looks, the mystery about the man, the fact that he should be totally forbidden.
He left her mouth and slowly set her on her feet. “I’m sorry,” he told her.
She stood there close to him, on fire, confused, embarrassed, aching. “I…have to look after Johnny.”
“He is tired from helping me, still needs his rest. Maybe if you put him down, he will fall asleep.”
She nodded, refusing to look up at him. “Maybe.” She knew what he meant. If Johnny could be put to sleep, they would be free to become lost in each other. He put a big hand to the side of her face.
“Gabe—”
“Do not fight it, Faith. It is time you were a woman again. And I love you.”
The words shocked her. He had said them so easily. “You—you still hardly know me.”
“I know enough. Out here there is not much a man needs to know, except that a woman is brave and strong and loves the land.”
She finally looked up at him. “I…I don’t aim to give up what I have here, nor my independence.”
“Did I ask you to?”
“I don’t know if we—”
He cut off her words with another kiss, this one deeper, hotter, more suggestive. He pressed her close, crushing her breasts against his powerful chest, and she felt a hardness against her thigh when her leg slipped between both his legs. She realized then she had an ache to feel a man inside her again. Once a woman knew that pleasure, it was difficult to go without it forever. She couldn’t even tell him yet that she loved him, was afraid to feel that way again. Johnny had broken all his promises. Maybe this man would, too. Maybe he would ride off next morning and never come back. She wondered if she would ever get over that worry. Yet why didn’t that possibility stop her?
She felt her arms moving around his neck, and neither seemed to care they were warm and sweaty from their morning’s work. Nothing mattered but to feel this passion, to satisfy this terrible hunger. She returned his kiss wildly, wrapping her legs around his waist when he lifted her slightly. Their kisses grew hotter, almost frenetic. His tongue slaked in and out of her mouth suggestively, and he moved one hand under her dress, grasping her bottom. He moved his fingers between her buttocks and to that secret place only Johnny had ever touched and invaded. He pressed against it, creating a fiery need deep inside. She wanted him to touch her there, wanted to feel this man of men surging inside her.
He left her mouth and kissed at her neck when she threw her head back.
“Let me go put Johnny down,” she told Gabe. She could feel him actually trembling. He slowly let go of her, saying nothing. He only nodded, backing away and going to the wagon. He climbed up almost as though in pain, and he drove off.
Faith turned to see Johnny sitting on the porch picking leaves off the viney plant that had started growing around the porch posts. She picked him up and carried him inside, her body almost hurting in a need to be satisfied by a man. She gave Johnny a little something to eat and laid him on the cot, telling him he should take a nap. She gave him his stuffed cow, and he turn
ed on his side and closed his eyes. She was surprised at how quickly he had obeyed, for he had been fighting his naps lately.
Was this another sign from God? Did this mean what she and Gabe were about to do was right? How could it be? As far as she was concerned, nothing could be more wrong, yet she knew that would not stop her. She heard Gabe’s footsteps on the porch then, turned when he opened the door and came inside. She looked at him, feeling flushed, afraid, on fire, weak.
“Don’t just use me, Gabe.”
He shook his head. “I would not do that—not with a woman like you.” He turned and placed the board over the door to bar it so no one could come in who might happen to pass by. He walked over and picked her up in his arms, carrying her to her own bed in the corner.
Chapter Twenty-two
Never had Faith experienced anything like what was happening to her now. There had been so many times when she had wished Johnny would slow down, touch her in special ways first, show his love and adoration of her body. Everything she had wished Johnny would do when making love to her, Gabe Beaumont was doing now. He, too, was urgent in his desire for her, yet this was so different.
There was a mature manliness about him that told her he knew how to treat a woman, and there was a look in his green eyes, a sensation in his soft, deep kisses that told her he did not just want quick pleasure. He adored her, cared that he pleased her. He had a commanding way of bending her to his will, and yet she did not mind obeying that command. Part of her felt that this was wrong, but the woman in her had been too long without a man, to care what was right or wrong.
Her clothes came off almost magically, kisses and licks at her lips, her shoulders, her breasts, her swollen nipples. She gasped at the sensation of his soft lips pulling at her breasts. Johnny had never stopped to do this. He had usually grabbed at her almost painfully, but Gabe seemed to savor every taste and touch. His lips moved downward as did her dress and camisole, which he unlaced then and threw aside, kissing her belly, her hipbones. Farther down the clothes came, and he kissed at the hairs of that secret place only Johnny had seen and invaded.
But Johnny Sommers had never lovingly caressed her there. She felt her clothes pulled the rest of the way off her legs, including her long stockings, her drawers, her boots. She curled up as he removed his shirt, his six-gun…everything. Johnny had given her little chance even to look upon that secret part of him with which he so eagerly invaded her practically every night. Now she could not help studying Gabe Beaumont’s body, from his powerful arms and shoulders to his broad chest, the scars above his breasts from that which was Indian about him, the scar at his side where she and Buck had saved his life not so long ago, the scars on his arms from mourning after the violent deaths of his wife and son. She had been horrified to think a man could mutilate himself like that, but she was trying to understand the Indian in him.
His torso was magnificent, his belly flat, his hips narrow, his thighs muscled, his most manly part reminding her of a proud stallion. She waited for him to climb on top of her and quickly have his way with her, but instead he lay down next to her, taking her into his arms and caressing her with kisses all over again, deep, hot kisses that made her forget all reason. His lips trailed to her breasts again, while he gently moved a hand to secret places, exploring, bringing out the sweet nectar of woman, making her ache to be invaded by Gabriel Beaumont.
Johnny had touched her there only roughly and eagerly, had never waited for her to build her own desire. She had thought that was the way it was supposed to be, but this…this was surely the best way. She felt wonderful sensations rising in her soul, heard herself whispering Gabe’s name, asking him please to not stop touching her there. She felt her legs parting willingly, felt her hips rising in response to his touch, as though to invite him to come inside.
She felt a pulsating climax deep inside then, a sensation that made her arch against his hand. He pressed his fingers tightly against that magic spot, and now she was the one kissing him wildly, begging him to enter her. She was the eager one, the one being too quick. Johnny had never made her feel this wanton, this bold, this wild. She rose against Gabe, needing to feel her breasts crushed against his bare chest. She kissed him almost violently, her fingers digging into his arms. She arched against him as he moved between her legs, and she cried out in ecstasy when suddenly he was inside her, his hot, hard shaft penetrating deep, almost hurting her with its size.
He moved in sweet, slow rhythm, teasing her with exotic circular motions. Finally his thrusts became more urgent, his rhythm faster. He rose on his knees and grasped her under the hips, pulling her to him. She groaned with the utmost pleasure, amazed that sex could be this wonderful. She felt his life flow into her, and she lay still as he lay down beside her. She could hardly believe then that she had allowed Gabe Beaumont to make love to her, yet still she hardly knew him. Had this lonely life brought her so totally into lawless behavior that now she was capable of lying with a near stranger like a harlot?
“What have we just done?” she asked.
A big hand moved across her breasts, and he turned on his side to kiss at her neck. “We have made love. By Indian custom you are now my wife.”
She frowned, not at all sure she wanted to be anyone’s wife. “Not by my customs,” she answered. “We need a preacher.”
“Then we will find one.”
“I don’t know if I want one. I don’t want to be tied to a man again.”
“I would not tie you in the way you are saying.” He moved on top of her again, resting his arms on either side of her. “Your independence is what I love about you, Faith Sommers. I would not change that.”
She reached up and touched his face, still on fire for him. “You could have just made me pregnant.”
“I hope I have. I would like another son of my own. Would you not like a brother for Johnny?”
“Only if his father plans to stay around and live the life of a normal family man—by white man’s standards.”
He kissed her lips gently again. “I would not have done this if I did not plan to live your way.”
She sighed, closing her eyes. “I can’t imagine what you think of me.”
“I just told you. I think of you as my wife. I think of you as the most beautiful white woman I have ever known, not just your sky-blue eyes and your hair red as clay, but inside. You are brave and strong, and you have remained that way through things that would have made other white women run back to where they came from. I do not just love you. I admire you.”
He leaned down and gently kissed her breasts, her neck, reawakening all her womanliness. She was still warm from their first lovemaking, and deep inside she already wanted more. This time she did not need all the touches and kisses. She needed only to feel Gabe Beaumont surging inside of her again.
“How can you know so quickly this is what you want?” she asked.
He smiled softly. “Because I have thought of no one but you since the day I found you lost and alone four summers ago. For years I have not known where I belong. Now I know.”
She traced her fingers over his lips. “You won’t turn Indian on me, will you?”
The remark made him laugh heartily. “What is that supposed to mean?”
How she loved that smile! Handsome. So handsome. “Well, you know. You won’t suddenly strip down and paint yourself and go riding off to fight soldiers or something, will you?”
He was still smiling, and he caressed her hair with one hand as he spoke. “I will always be Indian, because that is what half of me is. But I no longer choose to live among them. And I will always be white, because half of me is also white. I have chosen this because of you. If I were to lose you, perhaps then I would go back to my Indian ways, and even now I will sometimes go to a distant hill where I can be alone and I will pray with the pipe, for strength, for wisdom, for the ability to care for you as you should be cared for.”
She pouted. “I don’t need caring for. I can take care of myself. I just nee
d someone to hold me once in a while, and I need a father for Johnny. He worships you already.”
He raised his eyebrows mockingly. “You don’t need caring for? What if it had been some other wild Indian who broke through your window the day we attacked you? How much longer could you have continued doing all the chores and still caring for Johnny? Who would have buried the dead bodies of those outlaws I ran with if Buck had not come along? Who would have got you down off that roof today? Who would have helped bury your husband? Who would have led you to this place and kept you from being lost and starving to death, or being eaten by wolves, if—”
“All right!” She rolled her eyes. “I admit I need a little caring for, but I would have found a way out of all those situations if I’d had to.”
He shook his head. “I think I have chosen a very stubborn woman who will lose no freedom in marrying. It is I who will lose his freedom.”
She felt his shaft growing hard again. “I will lose some freedom of my own, Gabe, because I’ll never want to be without you. I—” It was so hard to say. The last time she had said it, it had cost her dearly and had become such a disappointment. “I love you, Gabe Beaumont.”
“And I love you, Faith Sommers. Now tell me that you also love Tall Bear.”
She studied the dark skin, his straight black hair, remembered how wild he could look…and behave. “I love you, Tall Bear.”
He grinned slyly and nodded. “Then you truly love all of me.”
She sighed deeply. “I will want to stay right here, you know. I still have a dream of building this place. And I want to keep calling it Sommers Station, even when we marry. It just seems to fit, and it was Faith Sommers who hung on to it to keep it alive.”
Tame the Wild Wind Page 26