Wolf Shadow (28 page)

But that was later. For now, she was content to watch the
men mount up and ride out. And then she saw Chance leading Smoke out of the
barn. He paused to speak to Cookie, then swung effortlessly into the saddle.

Her gaze moved over him. He looked handsome and rugged in a
dark blue shirt, leather vest, Levi’s, chaps, and scuffed boots.

He was settling his hat on his head when he saw her. He said
something else to Cookie, then rode toward her.

“Morning, Tessa,” he said. “You’re up early.”

“I couldn’t sleep. What are you doing today?”

“Riding out to look for strays.”

“I wish I could go with you.”

“Do you think your mother would approve?”

“Probably not. But I could ask her.”

“Go ahead. I’ll wait.”

The sun had nothing on the smile she flashed him, Chance
thought. He had enjoyed having Teressa here more than he would have thought
possible. She ran out to meet him each evening, anxious to hear about his day,
eager to tell him all about hers. He had been afraid her constant chatter would
start to annoy him, but he found himself looking forward to seeing her at the
end of a hard day on the range. He was even getting used to having Rosalia
around. He had to admit the house had never looked better. The furniture
gleamed. The windows sparkled. There wasn’t a speck of dirt or dust to be
found. And he had never eaten better in his life.

It came as somewhat of a shock to realize he was going to
miss them, both of them, when they were gone.

Teressa burst through the doorway a few moments later,
grinning from ear to ear.

“I can go!” she exclaimed.

Chance grinned back at her. “Come on, let’s find you a
horse.”

Gripping her forearm, he swung her up behind him and rode to
the barn. Dismounting, he lifted her from the back of his horse and they went
inside.

Chance moved down the center aisle, stopping when he came to
a stall near the back.

“This here’s Daisy Blue,” he said, patting the neck of a
pretty little dun-colored mare. “She’s trail-wise, not easily spooked, and has
a nice gait.”

Smiling, Teressa patted the mare’s shoulder, then stepped
aside as Chance bridled the mare and led her out of the stall.

Moments later, Daisy Blue was saddled and ready. Chance
lifted Teressa onto the horse’s back.

“Comfortable?” he asked, looking up at her.

“I guess so.” The saddle felt odd, hard and cold when
compared to sitting on a horse’s bare back.

“I think those stirrups are a little too long,” Chance
remarked. He shortened the length a little, then slipped her foot into the
stirrup. “Is that better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Let’s go, then.” Turning, he walked out of the barn.

Taking up the reins, Teressa clucked to the horse and
followed Chance outside, admiring the easy way he moved as he took up the reins
of his own mount and swung into the saddle.

“You should have a hat,” Chance remarked. “Here, wear mine.”

She settled his hat on her head, liking the feel of it, the
fact that it was his. “What about you?” she asked.

“I’ll be all right. You ready?”

She nodded eagerly.

“Let’s go.”

It wasn’t long until the ranch house was out of sight and
there was nothing to see but rolling grass, scattered stands of pines and
cottonwood, and a seemingly endless blue sky.

“Is all this land yours?” Teressa asked.

“Yep.”

She frowned, trying to comprehend the fact that he owned the
land. The Lakota did not claim to own the land. The earth was their mother and
the People treated her with reverence and respect. Sometimes, when you walked
the land, you could feel her heartbeat beneath your feet. Mother Earth provided
food and shelter and when life was over, she cradled the dead in her arms.

Chance watched the play of emotions over her face. He knew
that owning land was a hard concept for his people to accept. At one time, it
had been difficult for him to understand, as well, but no more. Right or wrong,
like it or not, it was the white man’s way to claim the land for his own and
Chance intended to hang onto this piece of ground, to pass it on to his son,
should he ever have one.

As much as he loved living with the Lakota, loved their
wandering way of life, he knew it couldn’t last much longer. More and more
whites were leaving the east, lured westward by the promise of getting rich
quick. Encounters between the Indians and the whites were growing less friendly
and more aggressive. White hunters were killing the buffalo. Farmers were
plowing the land, cutting the timber for fences, damming the rivers. In
retaliation, the Indians were attacking the hunters and the farmers, who went
to the Army demanding protection against the Indians.

Chance shook his head. Though he hated to admit it, he knew
that, in the long run, the Indians could not win the fight.

Riding on, they passed small bunches of cattle. Chance was
pleased to note that most of the cows had calves at their sides.

“You like it here, don’t you?” Teressa asked.

“Yeah.”

“Did you always want to be a cowboy?”

“No, it just sort of got under my skin. It’s a hell of a
life. Cows have got to be the dumbest creatures on God’s green earth.”

It was no easy task, being a cowboy. There was range to ride,
fence to mend. In the spring, the men spent a good deal of their time pulling
cows out of bogs. In the summer, there was always danger of fire. Wintertime
was mostly spent on maintenance and repairs and gathering firewood. From time
to time, some of the men had to ride out to make sure the cattle weren’t
starving or freezing to death. Cattle had a tendency to stand in deep snow and
freeze to death rather than try and find food. It was also necessary to chop
through the ice so the cattle could drink from the rivers and waterholes.
Another winter assignment, one the men vied for, was wolf hunting. When the
pickings among their natural prey were slim, wolves often stalked cattle.
Moving in packs, they would surround a cow, disable it by severing a hamstring,
and then move in for the kill. Some ranches hired men to hunt wolves, offering
them a five dollar bounty for each hide, but Chance didn’t like that practice.
The Lakota believed that everything living was related. It was one thing to
kill an animal because you needed the meat or the hide and another to destroy
it for no better reason than it was trying to survive.

Riding the line was another dreary task. Line shacks were
located every seven or eight miles around the outer edge of the ranch’s range. In
the winter, the men were posted there to keep an eye on the weaker stock and to
make sure the herd didn’t drift with the storm and wander off the range.

There was the spring roundup, when the calves were brought
in and branded, and another roundup in the fall when the cows that were going
to be sent to market were gathered. At this time, any calves that had been born
after the spring roundup, or that were missed previously, were branded.

Cowboys were a breed apart, there was no doubt about that.
They lived by their own code and, for the most part, were loyal to the brand
they rode for. No cowboy worth his salt ever borrowed a horse from another
man’s string without first asking permission. You didn’t whip or kick a
borrowed horse. You didn’t wave at an oncoming rider, since you never knew if
such a move might spook the horse, nor did a man on foot ever grab the bridle
of a mounted man’s horse. A man was expected to close a corral or pasture gate
behind him, and to remove his spurs when he entered the boss’s house. A man
might get by with rustling a few head of cattle, but stealing a horse was a
hanging offense.

“Look!”

Roused from his reverie, Chance looked to where Teressa
pointed and saw a mother skunk walking along a stream bank, followed by two
striped babies.

“Real cute,” he muttered, reining his horse away from the
stream. “Come on.”

Giving the smelly little family a wide berth, Chance urged
his horse into an easy lope. It was a beautiful day for a ride. The sky was a
bright clear blue, the air was warm but not hot.

He let his horse run until it slowed and stopped of its own
accord. Dismounting, he watched Teressa pull up beside him. She looked
beautiful, with her cheeks flushed pink and her blue eyes sparkling like
sapphires. His hat had blown off her head and hung by it’s thong down her back.

“That was wonderful!” she exclaimed as he lifted her from
the back of her horse.

He let her body slide down the front of his, his hands
lingering at her waist longer than was necessary. He knew he should let her go,
put some distance between them before it was too late. And then, as she leaned
into him, he knew it was already too late.

Muttering an oath, he pulled her closer. “Teressa.”

She looked up at him through smoky blue eyes, her lips
slightly parted.

“Tell me to stop.”

Instead, she slipped her arms around his waist. “No,” she
murmured, “don’t stop.”

Even as he lowered his head and claimed her lips with his
own, he was telling himself all the reasons why it wouldn’t work, but none of
them seemed to matter, not now, not when he could feel the soft sweet length of
her body pressed intimately against his, not when she was kissing him back, the
tip of her tongue exploring his lower lip, not when her hands were slipping
under his shirt, sliding over the bare skin of his back.

He groaned low in his throat. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” Her nails raked his back, ever so lightly. “You
won’t.” She leaned into him, pressing closer. “I’ve waited so long…”

“Tessa…” How many nights had he dreamed of this, ached for
this, burned for this moment? Since the first time he had seen there by the
river, he had wanted her, needed her with an intensity that was undeniable. He
had fought against it, telling himself she was too young, that he had no time
for a woman in his life, that he had a blood vow to fulfill, but none of that
seemed to matter now, not when Teressa was in his arms, her breasts crushed
against his chest, her kisses searing a path to his soul.

He lifted his hat over her head and flung it aside, his
fingers delving into the wealth of her hair, loving the way it curled around
his fingers. He rained kisses over her cheeks, her eyelids, the tip of her
nose. Her lips were sweet, so sweet, filled with secrets he yearned to savor.

Somehow, they were lying on the grass wrapped in each
other’s arms, their bodies entwined, straining to be closer, though he wasn’t
sure that was possible.

She kissed him greedily, her hands restless and arousing as
they moved up and down his back and arms, slid over his chest, caressed his cheek.
And then she took his hand and pressed it over her breast, and he was lost.

His hands were trembling as he undressed her, his breath
catching in his throat as her body was bared to his gaze. She was unbelievably
beautiful, her skin clear and unblemished, her figure slender and perfect.

She flushed under his gaze but didn’t look away, didn’t try
to shield herself from his eyes. “You are pleased?” she asked.

“You’re beautiful, Tessa. More beautiful than anything I’ve
ever seen.”

She smiled with pleasure, and then she began to undress him.
He noted that her hands, too, were trembling as she slid his shirt off his
shoulders and somehow, that made it all seem right.

He tugged off his boots and socks, lifted his hips so she
could slide his jeans and long handles down his hips.

And then there was nothing between them but desire.

For a moment, his gaze moved over her, unable to believe she
was there, his for the taking and yet, deep inside, he had known from the
moment he first saw her that this moment was inevitable.

He cupped her cheek. “Tessa…”

She smiled at him, her eyes glowing as she drew him down
beside her. “Love me, Wolf Shadow,” she murmured.

“I do,” he replied, his voice husky with desire.

“Then show me. Show me now.”

Gathering her in his arms, he kissed her, worshipping her
with his hands, his lips, his voice. She was fire and honey in his arms, warm
and willing as she teased and tempted him, her hands learning the contours of
his body, her teeth nipping at him. She purred with pleasure as his hands moved
over her. She loved his hands, big and brown and ever so gentle as they glided
over her skin, arousing her until she was mindless, breathless.

“Now,” she whispered, her voice ragged. “Now, Wolf.”

With a low growl, he rose over her. She gasped with mingled
pleasure and pain as his body became a part of hers. And then she was lost in a
dizzying world of sensation as he began to move deep within her. She clutched
at his shoulders, reaching for something elusive, afraid she wouldn’t find it.

“It’s all right, honey,” he murmured. “I know the way. Just
follow me and let yourself go.”

Clinging to his shoulders, her legs locked around his waist,
she closed her eyes and following him over the edge of abyss into paradise.

* * * * *

Chance brushed a lock of hair from Teressa’s cheek. “You all
right?”

She looked up at him, her eyes cloudy with spent passion,
her lips slightly swollen from his kisses, her expression that of a woman who
had been well and truly pleasured.

And then she laughed softly. “I am better than all right.”

He couldn’t help it. He laughed out loud. And then he drew
her into his arms and hugged her tight. Lord, but it felt good to laugh.

“Wolf?”

He drew back, frowning at the hesitant note in her voice.

“What is it, honey?”

“Have you…?” Her cheeks turned rosy as she cleared her
throat. “Have you done this with many women?”

“Not many.”

“More than one?”

“Tessa…”

Her gaze slid away from his but not before he saw the hurt
in her eyes.