Salvation's Secrets (The Loflin Legacy Prequel) (5 page)

Seth doubled over with the laughter. “Ah,
Little One, you are the only one.” He raised a hand as if swearing.
“I promise.”

“You are not serious.” Her chin jutted as
she started to shift out of reach.

“No, I am serious. Look, I’m sorry. I don’t
have the right word in Comanche to explain how I feel about you.
The feeling is enormous. It’s more than I could ever imagine.”
Reaching out, he took her hand between his. “Here, feel this.”
Laying her hand over his heart, he smiled when she looked up
surprised. “See what I mean. My heart is thudding against my chest.
I can’t get it to slow down when I’m with you.” Lifting her chin
with a finger, he examined her face. “There’s no good words for
what you do to me.”

Her expression took on such a tender bend,
Seth had to still his breath rather than loose it completely. “I
have feelings for you, which are strong and difficult to explain,
Seth. All I have to do is see you riding up and I get warm all
over.” Her eyes grew big and her hands brushed down her body as if
wiping the heat of passion away. “I asked Maylia what the feeling
was and she said I yearned for my mate.” Dubious yet serious, Celia
garnered his attention. With her fingers, she trailed a slim digit
down the side of his cheek. Where she touched him felt like hot
embers but in a good way. His whole body relaxed and went on alert
all at the same time.

“You’re experiencing an attraction to me,
the same way I am to you. Do you understand what I’m saying, Celia?
There’s an emotion forming between us like a bond. If it’s tight
enough, no one can severe its hold. Distance may keep us from each
other. I’ll know I love you here.” He laid her hand over his heart
again as his rhythm didn’t subside. The pounding grew stronger with
each pulse of blood through his body. “Come, lay with me.” His hand
reached for her. “I only wish I had a decent place for you to rest
your head.” His eyes traveled over her slim curves before settling
on her mouth, moist and soft as a rose covered in morning dew. “No
one has ever made me feel like you do, Little One.” His hand
trailed down the front of her tunic, grasping the hide and shoving
it up and out of his way. Soon, her skirt followed and she lay bare
before him. “You’re so lovely. A real vision for me to feast on and
I want to remain right here to fill my soul with you.” His dark
hair dropped forward when he lowered his lips to hers. Not a sound
was needed as they kissed with their tongues mating in a ritual as
old as time. Soon, he entered her. She arched in hunger and called
out in pleasure as he rode the passion between them. Small, innate
sounds like those of a distant harp’s song called to him, begging
him to follow. Seth picked up the tempo with an urgency brought on
by need. He wanted to give her the pleasure she needed yet the
siren’s call of completion was too strong. In the end, all he could
do was whisper his words of love for her ears only and hope she
understood. Rolling from atop her glistening body, he reared up in
the darkness and raked a hand through his dark chestnut strands.
“It’s late. We better get back.” Stepping aside to don his pants
and boots, he glanced at her form as she rose. The golden light of
a candle burned bright, sending shadows fleeting in their wake.

“One should think you were pressed for time,
Seth Loflin.” Her emerald eyes flicked up at him as she slipped
into her skirt. “I scarcely touched you and you rush headlong into
desire’s end.”

Plainly spoken, Celia’s words salted an
already festering cut. His father’s demands made meeting her all
the more dangerous. Why couldn’t the world go away? “I’m not in a
hurry, if that’s what you mean,” he said with a crook to his mouth.
He’d never been any good at lying and his attempt at meeting her
insistent stare made matters worse. “Just ache to see you.
Sometimes it’s too much for a body to bear.” Reaching for her, he
gathered her close. “I’ll make it up to you next time. You’ll see.
I’ll make love to you like there’s no tomorrow.” The tightening of
her jaw being her only response, he realized he had blundered and
excuses were worthless. Nuzzling her neck, her shoulder as well as
down her arm, he vowed to take as much time as necessary to instill
a kind of bliss guaranteed to keep her happy long after they’d
parted ways.

She took a step backward. “Lone Eagle wishes
you to visit our tent two nights from now. There is a special
celebration planned. You will come?”

More a statement than the question, Celia
stood, straight and tall, her chin just above level. “Yes, tell you
father. I will attend.” When she turned without so much as a nod in
his direction, he reached out, taking her arm and pulling her into
his. No real need in saying anything, he let his mouth do the
talking for him. Soon, she was gasping for air and plying him with
her own kisses. A small sound of pleasure broke the silence as his
hand slid up under her tunic to cup her firm breast. “I can’t get
you out of my head, Celia. You’re all I can think of anymore. What
am I going to do?” Pulling back a fraction, he stared into her
face. Those almond shaped eyes glistened with unshed tears.

“We mustn’t talk of such things, Seth
Loflin.” Her lips quivered as she dropped her head. “I have no
answers for your dilemma. I cannot sleep nor eat and father is
concerned. He asks me what is wrong.” She shook her head sadly. “I
cannot bring myself to tell him about this thing between us.”
Reaching out, she grabbed his forearms. “What if he sends you
away?” With emerald eyes searching his, Seth swallowed over the
greater risk of his father finding out.”

Whistling for Sarge, Seth led her to the
horse and helped her into the saddle. Her presence didn’t upset
Sarge like he thought another rider would. Perhaps even Sarge had
grown accustom to her presence in his life. “Don’t worry, Celia. I
won’t let anything happen to you or your people. You have my
word.”

The words eased her tense shoulders some and
she leaned back against his chest to doze. In the distance, he saw
her father’s camp, the world of the nomadic Indian, a warrior and
statesman, leader and mediator, widower and father. Whatever he
did, he’d make sure nothing happened to her or her people. This he
would assure Lone Eagle of at their upcoming meeting. She’d phrased
the meeting as a celebration and certainly the deer kill proved
worthy of celebrating. Still, Seth understood the meaning concealed
in her invitation. Her father wanted peace and the prosperity,
which came with abundant game, water for all and a warm bed at
night. They’d most likely smoke the peace pipe, a symbol of
alliance and peace among The People and with the settlers living in
the area. Praying he could pull off such a grand demonstration of
trust and good will, Seth said a silent prayer everything went well
in two days.

***

“Where in tarnation have you been?” The hall
glowed with so many candles the entry resembled a wake in progress.
“I’ve had every hand on this spread searching for you. Did it ever
occur to you to let somebody know where you’re going when you leave
the house?” Earl’s dusky blue eyes, still as keen as the days when
he was a sharp shooter for the Army, bore into Seth’s face mere
inches from his own.

The smoke from tobacco lingered on Earl’s
shirt. His silver gray hair, severely parted on the right side fell
forward despite the strong pomade infused hold. Wagging a long
finger at his first born, Earl scowled. “Don’t try lying to me,
Seth. I know you haven’t been in a damn poker game. I had somebody
check at the Double Bar M, the Rolling Star and the Switchin’ J.
Now come clean or I swear you’re on the next train out of here.”
His finger thrust in determined persuasion, Earl glowered at
Seth.

“I went out to the Comanche camp on the
bluffs.”

“You did what?” Earl’s voice boomed with
anger as well as innuendo.

“I went to see the Chief, Lone Eagle.” Seth
hoped if he sounded noble enough, he could get his father’s
blessing to visit the camp and ultimately not have to tell his
father about Celia.

“Why?”

“Because, he wanted to discuss his reason
for being here. He offered me the peace pipe as well.”

“The peace pipe?” Earl’s voice filled with
incredulousness. “Do you think I was born yesterday, boy?”

“I’m not your boy!” Seth’s teeth clenched
over the words and the memory of his skin burning as he lay atop
the asphalt shingles of a new ranch house some ten years earlier.
He’d helped his dad raise the barn and the house. Yet, Earl never
treated him like he could be anything but a burden. Certainly not
an asset Earl could rely on. Seth swallowed hard. He’d listened to
Earl yelling at his mother while she labored to bring his sister
into the world. Laura told him she hoped she died. She’d gotten her
wish. Pain crept back up his throat as thoughts of his father
beating Celia’s people into submission when plans changed to see
the Comanche and settlers leave in peace. Earl proved capable,
after all Laura, his maw, had suffered under his hand before.
Neither had realized their young son watched as his father beat his
mother.

“You worthless piece of shit.” Earl’s hand
came back as he meant to strike Seth across the face. “You’ll
respect me because I’m your father.”

“Yeah, the almighty Earl Loflin, cattle
baron and land owner in three counties.” The sarcasm dripped from
Seth’s words. He’d not spoken to his father so in quite some time.
The mere thought of the night Earl lashed out, cutting him across
the face, leaving a scar he carry forever made him sick to his gut.
This time, he vowed he’d be prepared. This time, the bastard
wouldn’t win.

“You better mind your tone, boy. I’m your
father. You don’t talk to me that way or else.”

“Or else what?” Realizing he treaded on
shaky ground, Seth took a deep breath. “We ain’t got no rights!”
Seth shouted above the standoff, his arms thrust wide in abject
submission.

Charles eased out the door and down the
hall.

Earl stepped closer. “You got one.” His
breath smelled like mint and his color was high. The bastard had
been drinking heavily. Waiting until Seth met his bloodshot eyes,
Earl sneered. “The right to leave this house and never come back if
you can’t abide my rules.”

The bedroom door swung wide, rebounding off
the wall. Jake stood in the opening.

“We got trouble, Earl.” The tight-lipped
scowl Jake shared for the room’s occupants didn’t indicate anything
was wrong with the scene. He was simply relaying ranch
information.”

“What are you talking about?” Sweat beaded
along Earl’s upper lip.

Seth held his tongue, though he wanted to
take a jab at the man standing in the center of the room. Fed up
with Earl’s tight-fisted tactics, he wanted something else, he
wanted her – Celia. They’d run away together. That’s what they’d
do! Armed with a newfound plan, he sidestepped Earl and headed for
the hall.

Jake never flinched. “We got Injun’
trouble.”

One word and Seth stopped dead in his
tracks. His heart rate increased three fold. A glance at Charles as
he met Seth in the hall and a cold chill swept over him.

“Are you sure?” Hating the defensiveness in
his tone, he headed down the hall, his boot heels echoing in his
wake.

“From what he said, Jake thinks its
Comanche.” Charles sounded serious and much older all of a
sudden.

Cutting his buddy a hard glare, Seth
murmured something under his breath. “Ain’t Comanche.”

***

The four rode hard, arriving in a cloud of
dust at a small patch of grazing land for Shooter Creek stock.

“They killed them all. The whole damn thing
makes no sense.” Unsure why he didn’t believe the Comanche caused
the carnage, Seth allowed Sarge his head as they moved among the
dead steers. Some had arrows protruding while others held bullet
holes. “Lone Eagle and his tribe had nothing to do with this.”
Emphatic and sick to his stomach at the same time, he steadied his
breathing in the hopes his next words came out plainly. “I’m going
to their camp to talk to him.”

“Like hell you are.” Earl spat chewing
tobacco on the ground and leaned a forearm on his saddle horn in
his quiet, yet serious way. The squint-eyed stare he used to survey
the damage was calculating and cold. “Jake, I want you to round up
the men and get them to meet me at the base of Bonnett’s Bluff.
“I’m gonna put the fear of God in these Injuns’.”

Alarm washed over Seth like ice water on a
cold day. Catching his breath, he wheeled Sarge and tore out in the
direction of Lone Eagle’s camp.

Since all eyes were on him, no one saw
Charles slip away to follow.

***

“They’re cattle rustlers, Charles. Same as
the low life scum you hire out to kill. We gotta get the chief to
explain how it wasn’t them that did it.”

“Come on, Seth. Be reasonable. You’re
grasping at straws here. Do you think Earl’s gonna believe Lone
Eagle over what he saw out there in the field? Even if Lone Eagle
could prove it wasn’t them. What makes you think Earl will believe
him?” Charles rode alongside Seth with a scowl on his face. This is
the kinda mess I was talking about. You’re fixin’ to put us right
in the middle of a standoff with the Comanche.”

“Me? I didn’t start this. Whoever killed the
cattle started this. I just aim to set the record straight.” His
mind made up, Seth stared straight ahead in anticipation of seeing
the campsite up ahead. “You don’t have to come with me, you know. I
can handle this.”

Charles shook his head. “Somehow, every time
I’ve ever heard you say those words, you always end up in trouble.”
The horizon loomed ahead and Charles gave the terrain a hard
study.

“That’s a lie and you know it.” Seth shot
him a hard look of disbelief before slapping Sarge’s flank with the
reins. Digging spurs into the horse’s flanks, he kicked up dust as
man and horse galloped ahead.