Sacred Ground (9 page)

"I deserve that comment, this one time," he said, releasing her. "I have a lot on my mind. My life is getting more complicated by the day." He paused and rubbed his chin with his thumb. "I don't know where we're headed. I swore I'd never get close to a woman again. Sean's mother left us. I won't put either of us through that emotional roller coaster again."

"I know what you mean," she agreed, barely above a whisper.

"When I see you, I want to turn and run in the opposite direction. It's not because I don't want to be near you, it's because I can't trust myself when I'm near you. Does that make sense?" He pulled his fingers through his hair.

She recognized the gesture, one he did when frustration and indecision pressed him. She touched his arm, and then allowed him to quickly pull her against him.

"I'm not asking for a commitment from you, Brett. I'm not asking for anything. I have no desire to give up my freedom, but a friend I could use." Her body tingled

"I want more than friendship. You put me on fire."

His breath felt hot against her ear. She answered by raising herself to meet his kiss. He moved his lips against hers and gently covered her mouth. His lips were more persuasive than she cared to admit. She responded with an urgency of her own.

They clung to each other, sharing kiss after hot kiss. They pressed their bodies together. He ignited her soul, demanding more and more, asking to be satisfied. A wild, free feeling filled her. She wanted him . . . all of him.

She tipped her head back, allowing him to sear a path down her neck. Her heart pounded fast, hearing his breathing match hers. Every part of her wanted Brett, except her mind. She feared his strength, his possession, his demands, and then the ultimate scoff at her inability to satisfy him. She'd refuse to do embarrassing things to him or allow him to demand strange submissions from her. Then the beatings would start.

Fear filling her,
Willow
bolted. She stepped a safe distance away, shaking. Breathing deep, she sat, fighting with her emotions. She felt him sit next to her, silent and waiting.

"I'm sorry. I'm frigid, if the truth be known."

"You expect me to believe that, after the most incredible kisses I've had in my life?"

"You're making fun, right?"

"Look at me," he demanded. "Please," he added in a husky tone. "No woman has made me hotter with just a kiss. If you consider this icy, I'm afraid I'll melt if you warm up."

"Don't be silly. Gordon told me I kiss like a fish.” She twisted her fingers together. “The rest you don't need to hear."

He covered her hands with his large palm. A heat wave flushed her body.

"You feel it, too, don't you? It's like nothing I've felt before. You're fighting it, but no matter how hard you try, it's not possible. I know, because it's happening to me too. I don't know what Gordon told you, but I would guess
it’s
pure bullshit. You don't have to tell me, it's probably best left buried with him."

"But―"

"Know one thing, Willow Howling Moon. I won't ever hurt you. I won't force myself on you. I won't ever hit you. You have my promise on that." He wiped a tear from her cheek with the tip of his finger.

"Look over there."
Willow
pointed and strained to distinguish the movement. "What do you make of it?"

"I'm not sure, but why don't we skedaddle under those trees, so we're not spotted. That's my land they're on. If I had my truck I'd have a pair of binocs."

"Whirlwind is tied in the shade. I have a pair in my saddlebag.” She slid down the boulder and rushed to her horse. “I wonder what they're up to. Could be treasure hunters, with all those caves."

"It could be the first glimpse I get of my saboteur." He brushed a buzzing bee from his face.

"Maybe we should restrict our movements. We spotted
them,
we don't want them to notice us." She handed him the binoculars, then sat on the ground, closed her eyes, and raised her face to the sun. "See anything?"

"Not yet. I'm not giving up until I do."

She glanced around, listening for anything unusual, but found none. As always, scrub pines in the area offered a break in the rolling hills. Overhead, the spread V of honking
Canada
geese flew with stately dignity over the land. She found the early hatch of flies more annoying than a joyful indication spring had sprung. But in
Montana
, the weather could change from sixty degrees to twelve below with just one strangling front from
Canada
.

"I've spotted them," Brett whispered.

Willow
bolted to his side. "Anyone you recognize?"

"You tell me," he said, handing the binocs over to her. "Look just to the right of that bare boulder on the left."

Willow
closed in fast and stared in disbelief at Lance and Sean, laden with heavy backpacks, hiking across the ridge. "What on earth are they doing? You give them permission?"

"Hell, no, not this time of year. I'm sure Mother wouldn't have, either.
How about your parents?"

Willow
shook her head. "They're out of town. When you think about it, it doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't make sense?"

"They haven't left their new buddies since they were born. What could possibly make them go off like this?" she asked."

"Does Lance have any great hideouts that you know of?"

"He knows a few. What about Sean?"

"Yeah, a few.
Damn. I have cattle to water and a mother who watched me leave in a huff. I'm sure she's worried that I'm at some bar getting shit-faced. Not that I usually do, but things have been piling up."

"We need to go back and check with your mother, then go to my place and get a couple horses and supplies. You know as well as I do, going after them unprepared won't help them any more than us."

"You're right, but we'll lose some valuable time. Why don't you take the truck back, and I'll go on ahead with Whirlwind. I might even catch up with them before dark."

"Even if you rode fast and furious, you wouldn't catch up with them. There's no way up that ridge except the old logging road. We can check in with your mother, have her call the authorities, just in case. We'll get supplies, a couple of horses, and drive as far as we can, then we'll ride after them. They're on foot; we'll catch up to them by morning."

Brett thought over her plan,
then
nodded. "What about Whirlwind?"

"I'll take my saddle and bags, then give him a good slap on the rump. He knows the way home." She eased the cinch strap and accepted Brett's help without comment. Within minutes they were on the road, racing against time.

* * *

"When I get my hands on Sean, he'll know the meaning of self-discipline. I wouldn't have believed he'd pull something like this," Brett grumbled, slipping his foot into the stirrup.

"Don't be so hard on him. I'm angry at Lance’s behavior, too, but boys are boys, something I learned a long time ago."

"Sean told me if I stopped yelling at you, I'd find I liked you.” Brett guided the young buckskin around trees and rocks, finding a trail where there was none. “He said he and Lance want to be brothers. They want to share a room. I never thought he'd do anything like this."

"I've been thinking. If they believe we'll like each other if we spend time together chasing after them, won't they try to give us false trails and even hide from us?" She was becoming more nervous by the minute.

"I suppose Lance is one hell of a tracker, huh?"

"Why?”
Willow
snapped. “Because he's an Indian, and we all know an Indian can track a snake across a rock?"

"Not exactly.
I've seen your father work with Lance.
Wouldn't surprise me if he knew every inch of the Missouri Breaks by now."

Willow
couldn't help feeling ridiculous about her outburst. "Sorry. You can't imagine the comments people make. I'm Blood
Blackfeet
[L1]
 
and, therefore, I can bead moccasins, make fry bread, and skin enough hides to make a tipi all in one day."

"Can you?" he asked, glancing back at her.

She read the tease in his expression and smiled. "Of course I can.”

"I haven't been exactly fair to you either, have I?"

"Matter-of-fact you haven't. Whatever made you believe Indian mothers don't pay much attention to their children? We let them run wild and . . ." she paused, thinking about the boys. "Maybe I should shut up. Now isn't a good time to argue this matter. Have any more dreams?"

"Great. Time to put me on the spot, is it?" A blush crept up his neck and flushed his cheeks.

"No, I just wondered. I'm not convinced you weren't dreaming. I just thought you ought to know that."

"I guess it makes me feel a whole lot better. Look there." Brett swung down off Dusty. "A few snapped branches."

"A few
intentionally
snapped branches. This might be funny in mid-summer, but with that front moving in, it's dangerous," she said, reaching for her jacket.

She read the same concerns in Brett's face. They'd both lived in
Montana
their whole lives. They knew the storm moving in would cover the entire state in the cold white stuff by morning.

"It'll be dark soon. We have to believe the boys are smart enough to recognize the dangers of this storm front. I’m sure Lance would know a safe cave for the night. We need to do the same."

"It's your property, any ideas?" she asked

Brett swung his muscular leg over his horse and pressed his Stetson down on his head. "There's an old coal mining tunnel about a mile ahead."

She followed him, remaining silent. The thought of spending the night with Brett filled her with longing and fear. If she were honest, she'd admit it wasn't his attempts at intimacy that bothered her . . . it was her reaction to them that had her worried.

* * *

"I can't believe you didn't pack a flashlight,"
Willow
shouted at him, feeling her way into the dark tunnel.

"Why is it my fault? You could have packed one yourself." His voice echoed slightly. "The temperature must have dropped at least twenty degrees in the past half-hour. I hope the boys have a fire going."

"Do you think they thought of stockpiling firewood for the night?" She stumbled over a rock. "Tell you what, you figure out a way to get our fire going, and I'll find some dry wood." She headed back outside the mining entrance. "We'd better take the horses inside too.”

Brett nodded,
then
felt ridiculous since she couldn't see him in the dark. "Don't go far," he shouted after her, knowing full well she could take care of herself, which he found somewhat annoying. A woman should need a man to protect her. He couldn't help feeling
Willow
didn't need a man in her life. The thought of her and another man filled him with jealousy. He knew how ridiculous that sounded, he hardly knew her, the real her anyway.

Using a lighter, he brought several sticks and dry leaves to a crackling fire. With care he added several more pieces of wood until he had a nice blaze going. He circled the burning stack with rocks, pleased with the results.

"Not bad for a non-Indian,"
Willow
said, dropping an arm-load of dry wood near the warm fire. "I'll get some more if you want to take care of the horses."

"That's a deal," he answered. He liked how her hair had worked loose from the tie. It softened her appearance, in spite of her tough lady efforts.

"What you staring at?" she asked. "Did I grow horns?"

"Now that you mention it . . ." He left the sentence unfinished and chuckled. Her mouth curved into an unconscious smile. She seemed unaware of the captivating picture she made when she smiled.