Wild Desire (11 page)

Pure Blossom sobbed as she clung to him, yet she could not find it inside her heart to tell him that she was sorry. She
wasn't
. Adam had awakened her to feelings that she perhaps would have never known. She would cherish them. She would cherish and relive those moments with him until the day she died.

“Adam is
hogay-gahn
, bad,” Sage said, his voice drawn. “You are good. You are not meant to be together.”

He eased away from her and gave her a lingering look, then left.

Pure Blossom threw herself onto her bed and cried, hugging the blankets upon which she had made love.

“Adam,” she sobbed. “My Adam.”

Chapter 14

Stephanie and Runner rode along an old oxcart trail, the pack mule trailing behind them. Stephanie looked over at Runner. “I truly appreciate you being here with me.”

She waited for him to respond, growing more tense when he didn't. He continued looking straight ahead, as though she weren't there.

“Runner, please tell me what's the matter,” she said. “Back at the train, everything was so beautiful between us until I mentioned Adam. I didn't know that your feelings about him ran this deeply.”

“Adam is a stranger to me now,” Runner said, giving Stephanie a scowl. “Many years have passed since we shared a friendship. Those years changed Adam into someone with whom I could not be a friend.”

“But, darling, you knew that before we made love,” Stephanie said. She shifted her horse's reins from one hand to the other. “Why did the mention of his name have to ruin what we share? Although Adam is my brother, he and I do not always agree on everything. I never allow his opinions to overshadow mine.”

“And I admire that in you,” Runner said, his lips moving into a soft smile. “And I am sorry that I allowed my bitter feelings about Adam to come between us.”

He paused and again stared straight ahead, into the distance. “You see, my feelings for Adam run deeper than those of my father,” he said thickly. “I resent Adam for being here with plans that will put more hardships on the Navaho. But it is the friendship that we had as children that bothers me. Through the years I had hungered to be with my friend Adam again. My mother told me more than once that it would happen.”

He paused and gave Stephanie a sour look. “She was right,” he said flatly. “I have met Adam again. But it is not how I expected it to be. I had hoped to have the same friendship with him, as I did as a child. Now I see how foolish I was to hope that a man living in the white world could remain as one with my heart, whose world is, and has been for so long, Navaho.”

“I wish it could be different,” Stephanie said softly. “But don't you see? Nothing can change it. Please, Runner, don't let this tear you apart.”

“How can I, when I do not know where he is, or what he is doing?” Runner said, his voice drawn. “If he stayed the night with Damon, who is to say what those two might be plotting against the Navaho? We are sure that Damon steals our horses. If he could, he would steal all of our land and run us off into the mountains. If Adam is allying himself with Damon Stout, he is no better than a thief who steals from a hardworking, beautiful people.”

“It was never my brother's intent to harm your people,” Stephanie said. “The Santa Fe Railroad has been given permission by the United States Government to move further into Navaho territory. Yes, Adam is the cause for this private spur. And, by right, he can do it. But he also wanted to make things right with the Navaho. He doesn't want trouble, only acceptance.”

“As you can see, that has been denied him and the railroad tracks are still being laid,” Runner said in a low voice.

Stephanie thought back to earlier and realized it had been the sound of the work gang pounding with their pickaxes and sledgehammers outside her private car that had angered Runner more than the mention of Adam's name. To Runner, who allied himself with his father's feelings about the railroad, each spike buried deeply into the ground was as though it was being lodged into his heart.

“Runner, I wish there was something that I could do, but there isn't,” Stephanie said, reaching a hand to his arm. “Darling, I hope you don't grow to resent me, too. My photography means the world to me. And Adam has nothing, absolutely
nothing
, to do with it. I promise that I will never photograph anything that you don't want me to.”

“Do not be so hasty with your promises,” Runner said, giving her a guarded look. “I can see that your love for what you do runs deep. There are many tempting sights you might want to photograph that I will deny you. Who can say whether or not you will be able to resist temptation?”

Stephanie's eyes widened and her throat went dry. She had to wonder if Runner had a specific place in mind that she would certainly want to photograph. It frightened her to think that she might want to go back on her promise. Already she had found the beauty of the West a palpable force. And she knew that there must be more alluring sights that she had not yet experienced. She had traveled far from Wichita. How could she not want to see it all and take back as much as she could to share by way of her photographs?

“You are suddenly quiet,” Runner said, frowning over at her. “Why is that?”

“Runner, I never want to hurt you,” Stephanie said quietly. “I hope that I have the willpower not to do anything that will cause you to hate me.”

“You will find that so hard to do?”

“I
love
what I do.”

“If you had to choose . . .”

“You wouldn't ask me to, would you?”

“I doubt that I would dare to,” he said, frowning, then slowly smiled over at her.

“I do love you so much,” Stephanie said, sighing with relief.

Runner was just about to reply when an approaching rider drew his attention away from her.

Stephanie leaned forward in her saddle, hand on the saddle horn, disbelieving the sight before her eyes.

“Adam?” she whispered, paling.

She drew a tight rein as Adam's horse thundered toward her and Runner. Where was her brother's shirt? she wondered to herself. And where were his boots? It was as though he was fleeing for his life.

“Adam!” she screamed at him as he rode past.

He looked back at her only long enough to give her an angry stare, and then he glared at Runner.

Stephanie saw the viciousness in Adam's face and knew that if looks could kill, Runner would be dead.

“Stop!” Stephanie shouted after him, turning in the saddle to watch him ride away, his horse stirring up dust and plants beneath the sting of his pounding hooves.

“Adam, good Lord,” Stephanie screamed after him. “What has happened? Please stop!”

Runner reached over and placed a hand on her arm. “Let him go. It is obvious that he wishes to have no part of either one of us this morning.” He smiled cunningly. “It seems he has gotten himself into trouble. I hope it was at the hand of my father.”

“Surely you don't want any harm to come to my brother,” Stephanie said, turning startled eyes to Runner.

“Only what he might deserve,” Runner said. “And how else should I care about him? He has chosen to walk the opposite path of the Navaho. They are my people now. He would not be riding like a madman today, half-clothed, had he not been caught in one mischief or another. Do you truly believe that it had nothing to do with the Navaho?”

“I would hope that he would be smarter than that,” Stephanie said, inhaling a nervous breath. “He knows how strongly your father feels about his interference.”

Runner nodded, then sank his moccasined heels into the flanks of his stallion and rode ahead of Stephanie. “Come,” he said, gesturing with a hand. “I have places to take you.”

Stephanie only halfheartedly nudged the horse's sides with her knees. She was discovering that loving a man of different ideals and customs was not all that simple. Each turn brought new complications.

 

 

Seething with hate, Adam arrived at his private car. After securing his horse, he bathed, then lit a cigar and began pacing. He had to find a way to make Sage pay.

“Why can't he see that I didn't even have to ask for approval?” Adam said, frustrated. “I don't need it. It was just out of politeness that I offered to sit in council with him.”

He yanked the cigar from between his lips and stamped it out in an ashtray. He went to the liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from it. His eyes narrowed, he sauntered to his desk and sat down on a plush leather chair, uncorking the bottle. He took a long swallow, then set the bottle on the desk.

“I'm going to make him pay,” he whispered darkly to himself.

Taking several sheets of paper from a drawer, he stacked them neatly on the desk and stared down at the blank pages as he drank more whiskey.

Then, dipping a pen in ink, he began writing plans—plans that would end Sage's reign as a leader and, hopefully, his life.

 

 

Runner led Stephanie down a slope of bald rocks into a valley surrounded by moderately high cliffs. Here and there clumps of scrub oak were clustered along a running stream. Lofty mountains rose in the distance.

Deep, beautiful canyons lay on each side of Stephanie. It was easy to forget everything evil and ugly in the world. She was in awe of Arizona all over again, the Pueblo Colorado Wash winding down below and grandeur surrounding her. As the slope steepened, she held her knees more tightly against her steed and clung to the reins.

Runner led her to a place of beautiful rock outcroppings, from where she could see for miles upon miles of what appeared to her to be a mystical, sacred land.

Runner dismounted. He went to Stephanie and lifted her from the saddle.

“You will allow me to photograph here?” Stephanie said, wonder in her voice. She looked guardedly around her and shivered. “It seems as though there is something here, as though we are not alone. As though there is an invisible force watching us.”

“We are never alone,” Runner said. He turned and surveyed the grandeur of the land himself. “The earth is the Great Mother. The sun is the Father of life. The moon is Grandmother. The stars are celestial souls that shine to guide earthly wayfarers, to inspire and protect mankind. That is why you feel a presence. These things that I have just described to you are with us, always.”

“If what you say is true, then this is not, in itself, a sacred place,” Stephanie said, gazing up at him. “If it were, that would mean that everywhere we travel could be called sacred.”

“I do see everything in this land as sacred,” Runner said. He went to her mule and untied her photography equipment. “But some is more sacred than others.” He turned sullen eyes to Stephanie. “Remember well, my sweet one, that nothing is as sacred as the People.”

“That is why you will not allow me to photograph them?” Stephanie said. She removed her camera from the pack mule. She flinched somewhat when she saw the anger the sight of her camera brought into Runner's eyes. “That is so,” Runner said, quickly looking away from her camera. “And I will confess to you that I am traveling with you not only because I wish to be with you, but also to keep you away from my people.”

This came as no surprise to Stephanie. She busied herself with preparing a plate and loading her camera, then put it aside and set up her tripod.

When she turned to get the camera, she saw Runner holding it carefully in his hands, with curiosity in his eyes. He was intrigued.

“Isn't it fascinating?” she said, relaxing and moving to his side. She clasped her hands together behind her. “I am using the glass plate type of camera today. This sort conveys an impression of the real grandeur and the magnitude of mountain scenery that smaller views cannot possibly impart.”

“Before I knew you I had heard about cameras,” Runner said, turning it over again to look into the lens. “But I had not seen one until I met you.”

Runner cast his eyes upward, checking the angle of the sun. “If I am to return you to your railroad car before dark, you had best get started now,” he said.

He handed her the camera that he had been studying, after she replaced the other one in the saddlebag.

Stephanie nodded. She gave him an excited, warm smile, then turned from him and placed her camera on the tripod. She soon became lost to everything but the pleasure of taking the photographs.

Runner stood away from her. A slow smile formed on his lips as he watched her. He was seeing the child in her as she took one photograph after another. There was such an innocence about her as she would momentarily turn around and laugh softly toward him, then again get lost in her love of photography.

Runner sat down and leaned his back against a rock, entertained by the sight of this woman that he wanted for a wife. His only regret was that they could not have met under different circumstances. Although their love was sincere for one another, would she be willing to give up her dreams to become part of Runner's life? Could she choose a life with him, over a career that made her so happy?

This was the first time that he had allowed himself to go so far as to consider marrying her. He was not sure when, or if, he could ever voice this aloud to her. He feared hearing her answer. If he had to lose her, after having waited a lifetime for her, he wondered what choices he might have to face. Would he follow her back to the white world, just to be with her? Or were his loyalties to the Navaho too fierce?

Troubled, he continued watching Stephanie. The sun was lowering in the sky. She seemed frantic to take as many photographs as she could before the light became too faint.

“There is always tomorrow,” he said, rising to his feet. He circled his hands around her waist and drew her back against him. “We will travel to new places tomorrow. I will watch you again. Watching you gives me much pleasure.” He leaned over and spoke against her lips. “I want to make love to you.
Now
.”

Their lips came together in a frenzied, heated kiss. Enveloping Stephanie within his arms, Runner lowered her to the ground. Still kissing, his hands lifted her skirt and swept away her lacy underwear. Her hands groped and lowered his breeches.