Reckless Desire (16 page)

Mary nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Side by side they rode away from the barn and down toward the river. It was a lovely day, cool and clear. Fat powder-puff clouds drifted across the sky, like ships floating on the sea.

Mary studied Cloud Walker furtively as they rode along. He looked good on a horse, she mused. He rode without a saddle, his long legs straddling the horse with easy assurance. His hands were light on the reins, knowledgeable, expert. He wore a pair of tight blue jeans and a dark red shirt. Well-worn moccasins hugged his feet.

They rode in silence for some time. At the river Cloud Walker looked over at Mary. “Shall we cross?”

“If you like.”

The spotted filly followed the gelding into the river, stepping daintily into the water like a woman who didn’t want to get her feet wet. The horse was a pleasure to ride, Mary thought as she stroked the mare’s sleek neck.

When they reached the far side of the river, Mary urged the filly into a lope, laughing with delight as the wind whipped through her hair and stung her cheeks. It felt so good to be riding again, to run free over the vast sunlit prairie. She heard Cloud Walker coming up behind her and she urged the mare to go faster, her heart feeling light and carefree for the first time in months. It was wonderful to be alive on such a beautiful day.

Mary let the Appaloosa run until the animal began to tire, and then she drew rein beneath a tree whose leaves had turned from spring green to brilliant autumn colors of gold and red and rust.

In moments, Cloud Walker drew up beside her, his dark eyes glowing and happy.

“You ride well for a woman,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” Mary replied saucily. “You ride well for a man.”

Cloud Walker threw back his head and laughed out loud. It was the first time Mary had seen him laugh wholeheartedly, and she was amazed at how much more handsome he was when he looked happy. It was the first time she had seen him look genuinely amused, the first time the sadness had been gone from his eyes.

For a few moments they sat in the shade in companionable silence. Birds twittered in the treetops, and a squirrel darted down the trunk and disappeared in the tall yellow grass. In the distance a skunk made its way across the prairie, its tail straight up, its nose testing the gentle breeze that ruffled the grass and sighed softly through the autumn leaves.

“My father came to my mother’s rescue out here when they were kids,” Mary remarked, gesturing toward a low ridge some twenty yards away. “My mother was riding with a friend when a bunch of young Cheyenne braves surrounded them. The Indians wanted to kill Joshua and take my mother prisoner, but then my father rode up and told the Indians to leave the white girl and her friend in peace. My mother said she was scared to death until my father arrived, and then she wasn’t afraid anymore.”

“Your father is greatly respected on the reservation,” Cloud Walker replied. “When the old ones speak of the great chiefs, your father’s name is always mentioned.”

Mary nodded. “He was a great warrior. My mother has often told us stories of his bravery in battle, and how he led a band of renegade warriors in one last effort to be free after the battle at Little Big Horn. My mother rode with them and fought with them for a short time,” Mary added proudly. “I don’t think I would have had the courage to ride into battle with the men.”

“You never know what you will do until the time comes,” Cloud Walker said. “But I think you are very much like your mother. I think you would also ride to battle beside the man you loved.”

“Maybe,” Mary allowed dubiously. “I hope I never have to find out.”

“Have you heard from your husband?”

“No.”

Hope flared in Cloud Walker’s heart. His feelings for Mary were growing stronger with each passing day. Perhaps if Mary and her husband decided to end their marriage, he, Cloud Walker, would have a chance to win her heart. The mere thought filled him with exhilaration. What joy, to have Mary for his own! And then reality set in. He had nothing to offer Mary, nothing at all. In the old days, he might have kidnapped her and carried her off to his lodge in the Black Hills, but those days were gone. He was a man without a home of his own, with nothing of value to offer a woman.

“Shall we sit down for a while?” Mary asked. “It’s pretty here.”

Cloud Walker nodded. Vaulting lightly to the ground, he placed his hands around Mary’s tiny waist and helped her from her horse. He held her for just a moment longer than necessary before he released her, and then he sat down beside her on the thick buffalo grass.

“How long are you going to stay in Bear Valley?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I was hoping…oh, never mind.”

“You were hoping your husband would have come after you by now?” Cloud Walker guessed.

“Yes,” Mary admitted ruefully. “But I don’t think Frank is going to come after me.”

“Do you still love him?”

“I don’t know,” Mary answered, shaking her head. “I wonder if I ever did.”

“If he comes for you, will you go back to Chicago with him?”

“I don’t know that either.”

“I do not mean to pry,” Cloud Walker said apologetically. “Forgive me.”

“It’s all right,” Mary assured him. She picked up a large red-gold leaf and twirled it between her fingers. “I don’t think Frank and I can ever be happy together now. He’s ashamed of Katherine because she looks like my father’s people. I can’t live with a man who’s ashamed of his own child, ashamed of me. I don’t think Frank will ever be able to overcome that.”

“Then he is a fool,” Cloud Walker said quietly.

Mary felt her cheeks grow warm under Cloud Walker’s lingering gaze. There was no mistaking the caring in his eyes, the longing in his voice. She did not move as Cloud Walker slowly leaned forward, his lips touching hers in a kiss as soft and light as butterfly wings. In spite of the gentleness of his kiss, it affected Mary like a bolt of lightning, sending wave after wave of heat pulsing through her. Breathless, she placed her fingertips to her lips, stunned by the unexpected surge of desire that Cloud Walker’s kiss had ignited. Frank’s touch had never filled her with such turbulent emotions. His kisses had never made her blood turn to fire, or caused her insides to flutter wildly. She was stunned by a sudden desire to throw herself into Cloud Walker’s arms, to feel his hands on her breasts and thighs, to feel his body lying close to her own. The intensity of her longing for him left her feeling confused and uncertain and a little frightened. But want him she did. Desperately.

Cloud Walker’s feelings were much the same as Mary’s. His dark eyes moved over her face, enchanted by the way the sun danced in her windblown hair, and by the way her eyes met his, looking shy and sensual at the same time. He longed to take her in his arms, to taste the honey of her lips one more time, to bury himself in her womanly sweetness. He gazed at her, his desire almost painful in its intensity, and saw that she wanted him as well. But he did not touch her. She was a married woman, and he had no right to want her, no right to touch her.

They gazed at each other for a full minute, their eyes speaking words they dared not utter aloud. Mary’s heart was beating so hard she wondered if she might die, was certain she would die if Cloud Walker did not take her in his arms and ease the terrible hunger his one innocent kiss had aroused in her. Now she knew what her mother had meant by the pleasure a woman could receive in her husband’s arms. Only Cloud Walker was not her husband. Shame washed over Mary, but she didn’t care. She would gladly sacrifice everything for an hour in Cloud Walker’s arms, to experience again the joy of his touch.

Abruptly, Cloud Walker stood up. He could not sit beside her any longer. Another moment and he would sweep her into his arms and bring shame on them both.

“We should go,” he said.

“Yes,” Mary agreed, extending her hands. “Will you help me up?”

Cloud Walker hesitated briefly before he took Mary’s hands in his and pulled her to her feet. And now they were standing only inches apart. Mary did not let go of Cloud Walker’s hands. She could feel him trembling slightly and as she looked up into the depths of his eyes, she knew why he trembled. He wanted her, and he was afraid. Afraid of hurting her, afraid of ruining her reputation. Afraid of being rejected.

Shamelessly, impulsively, Mary swayed toward Cloud Walker, testing her power over him. Her breasts brushed against his chest, and that brief contact was like striking a match to dry prairie grass.

Cloud Walker groaned low in his throat as he murmured her name. Did she know what she was doing to him? He whispered her name again, his mind in turmoil as he prayed to Maheo for strength to resist the delightful creature standing before him. He was only a man, after all, and she was so near, so beautiful.

Knowing it was wrong, Mary lifted her face for his kiss. She had to feel his lips on hers one more time, had to know if her response would be the same or if she had only imagined the ecstasy she had felt because she needed so badly to feel loved. Placing her hands on Cloud Walker’s shoulders, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. And the same sweet wanting washed over her again.

With a cry that was as much pain as pleasure, Cloud Walker swept Mary into his arms and drew her body close to his own as he kissed her hungrily, passionately. His desire for the woman in his arms was a throbbing ache in his loins, a sweet torture from which he dared not seek relief.

Mary pressed closer to Cloud Walker, loving the way her body seemed to fit to his. She could feel his desire for her rising against her belly, and it filled her with joy. She knew suddenly what her mother and Vickie had been trying to tell her.

“Mary.” Cloud Walker murmured her name reverently as his lips moved across her face.

“I know,” Mary replied. “I feel it too.”

Bodies pressed close, they kissed again, all else forgotten but the wonder of the love blossoming between them. Mary had never seen Frank fully naked in the harsh light of day, nor had she cared to, but now she yearned to see all of Cloud Walker. Dimly she wondered why Cloud Walker had the power to arouse her with a mere kiss when Frank’s caresses had not, but she did not dwell on the matter. She was too caught up in the wonder of the new feelings coursing through her. It was as if her whole body had suddenly come alive, every fiber and nerve attuned to the touch of Cloud Walker’s hands and lips.

Cloud Walker’s kiss deepened as Mary pressed herself against him. His tongue slipped over her lips and tasted the hidden nectar of her mouth. Mary responded with a quick intake of breath. The blood pounded in her ears, and she had the odd sensation that she was floating in time and space, adrift in a world of wonder such as she had never imagined existed. She longed for nothing more than to have it last forever.

The sound of hoofbeats reached Cloud Walker’s ears. Reluctantly, guiltily, he released his hold on Mary and stepped away as Shadow rode up.

For a moment Shadow just sat there, his eyes easily reading the guilt and desire in Cloud Walker’s expression and the bright flush of shame in his daughter’s cheeks.

“Hello,
neyho
,” Mary said quietly.

“Go home,” Shadow ordered sternly.

“No,” Mary answered, defying her father for the first time in her life.

Cloud Walker’s heart began to pound as Shadow slid effortlessly to the ground and stood before him. Mary’s father had every right to be angry, he thought, discouraged, and wondered if Shadow would order him to leave Bear Valley immediately. Despair filled Cloud Walker’s heart at the thought. He had grown to love this place almost as much as he loved Mary.

“What are your intentions toward my daughter?” Shadow demanded, his eyes boring into Cloud Walker’s.

“I love her,” Cloud Walker answered, his voice clear and proud.

“She is married to another.”

Cloud Walker slid a glance in Mary’s direction before returning his gaze to Shadow’s face. “The marriage cannot last. Surely you know how unhappy she is.”

“She is still a married woman. You have no right to interfere in her life so long as she is bound to another.”

“You have no right to judge me,” Mary blurted, not daring to meet her father’s eyes. “You took my mother when she belonged to another man.”

Shadow studied his daughter’s face and saw the determination in her eyes even though she did not look at him. This was the first time she had dared argue with him, the first time she had not meekly obeyed his command.

“That was different,” Shadow said at last. “Your mother and I had been married by Elk Dreamer long before she married Joshua Berdeen.”

“That marriage was not legally binding,” Mary retorted. “And you know it.”

“I do not wish to argue about that now,” Shadow said irritably. “Your mother was blackmailed into marrying Berdeen. No one forced you to marry Frank Smythe.”

“I made a mistake,” Mary said, meeting her father’s eyes for the first time. “Must I pay for it the rest of my life?”

Shadow looked at Cloud Walker again. “You say you love my daughter. I forbid it.”

“I cannot help the way I feel,” Cloud Walker replied with a shake of his head. “She is kind and good and beautiful. She deserves a man who will treat her with love and respect, a man who will be proud of her, of what and who she is.”

“And do you think you are that man?”

“Yes. I love her with all my heart.”

Shadow looked skeptical. “You have only known each other for a short time.”

“You said you knew the minute you saw my mother that she was the only woman for you,” Mary argued boldly.

“Yes,” Shadow remarked dryly. “But she was not a married woman at the time.”

Cloud Walker took Mary’s hand in his. “The feelings are the same,” he insisted.

Shadow nodded. How well he remembered the fire Hannah had stirred in his blood that day he had seen her near the river crossing. She had been wearing an old blue gingham dress. Her hair, as red as flame, had fallen in loose waves about her slender shoulders. Her eyes, ever a warm and lovely shade of gray, had returned his gaze shyly. He had known from that moment that no other woman, red or white, would ever hold his heart.