Beyond The Horizon
Read Beyond The Horizon Online
Authors: Connie Mason
FORBIDDEN PASSION
How many other women had he seduced so effortlessly with his male magnetism? she wondered. How had such a half-breed acquired such sophisticated talents? And what was she doing in his arms, responding to him with an eagerness that shocked her?
“Don’t,” Shannon gasped. She was shaking from head to toe as she pushed herself from Blade’s arms.
My God! Blade thought, nearly as shaken as Shannon. If he continued like this he’d be bedding her on the hard ground in another moment. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he taunted. It took considerable effort to make his voice deliberately cruel and cynical.
“Are you trying to humiliate me?” Shannon struggled for breath, his cruel words fueling her anger.
“Is this why you came out here?” Blade replied with sly innuendo. “Does a half-breed kiss any differently from a white man? Or did you pick me to experiment on because I’m only half tame and the thought excited you?”
Other books by Connie Mason:
PIRATE
BRAVE LAND, BRAVE LOVE
WILD LAND, WILD LOVE
BOLD LAND, BOLD LOVE
VIKING!
SURRENDER TO THE FURY
FOR HONOR’S SAKE
LORD OF THE NIGHT
TEMPT THE DEVIL
PROMISE ME FOREVER
ICE AND RAPTURE
LOVE ME WITH FURY
SHADOW WALKER
FLAME
TENDER FURY
DESERT ECSTASY
A PROMISE OF THUNDER
PURE TEMPTATION
WIND RIDER
TEARS LIKE RAIN
THE LION’S BRIDE
SIERRA
TREASURES OF THE HEART
CARESS AND CONQUER
PROMISED SPLENDOR
WDLD IS MY HEART
MY LADY VIXEN
B
EYOND
THE
H
ORIZON
C
ONNIE
M
ASON
© 1990, 2011 Connie Mason. All rights reserved.
Contents
Twin Willows Plantation, Georgia
—
March
1867
“D
amn Yankee,” Shannon Branigan whispered, hating
the sight of Harlan Simmons lounging insolently on the elegant veranda as she twisted her head for one last look at her beloved home and family. Then she tightened her grip on the buggy reins and clucked the horse into a quicker trot down the long lane. Nothing remained for the Branigans now in Georgia, Shannon thought sadly as she dashed a tear from the corner of her eye. The old life was gone. Twin Willows belonged to that yellow-bellied carpetbagger now; her father was dead by his own hand, driven to the deed by the Yankees; and her brother Grady had been slain on the battlefield, sacrificing his youth for a lost cause.
“Are you all right, dear?”
Shannon turned her head and attempted a smile at her great aunt seated next to her in the buggy. Though Shannon had volunteered willingly to remain behind in Atlanta with Great Aunt Eugenia while the rest of the Branigans left to make a new life in Idaho, separation from her close-knit family was tearing her apart. It all seemed so final.
“I’m fine, Aunt Eugenia, truly.”
But was she fine? Vividly she recalled her brother Tucker’s parting words.
“We’ll write as soon as we reach Boise,” Tucker had said.
“Don’t worry about me, Tuck,” she had answered. “Aunt Eugenia and I are going to be fine. The Yankees haven’t beaten the Branigans. They just think they have.” But her brave words had fooled no one, least of all herself. How long would it be before she could rejoin her family in Idaho?
Shannon wasn’t the only family member to remain behind. Seventeen-year-old Devlin had been arguing with Tucker for days about Devlin’s refusal to run from the Yankees with his tail tucked between his legs, as he so aptly put it. He insisted on remaining behind to accomplish Lord only knew what. Shannon could sympathize with Dev. Both she and Dev were famous for their tempers and were known as the hotheads of the family.
Though Eugenia’s watery blue eyes were dimmed by age, her agile mind grasped and understood perfectly her great-niece’s anguish. A tremendous outpouring of love and compassion encompassed this special girl who had given up so much for an old lady unlikely to see the year through.
“You should be going with your family,” Aunt Eugenia said in a dry whisper that spoke eloquently of her frailness, her inability to make the monumental journey the other Branigans were undertaking.
“You’re my family, too,” Shannon reminded her gently. “I’m here because I want to be, Aunt Eugenia. We’ll show those damn Yankees they can’t run us out.”
Washington, D.C.—April
1867
“The President will see you now, Captain Stryker.”
The man who walked through the door to the president’s office wore the blue uniform of the Union Army, but that wasn’t what set him apart from other young men his age. There was an indescribable power about him, as well as something profoundly mysterious.
“Come in and sit down, Captain Stryker,” President Johnson invited. “As you can see, Major Vance is already here.”
With a nod and a smile, Blade Stryker acknowledged his commanding officer and friend of many years. Then he directed his undivided attention back to the president. It was the first time he had met President Johnson, and he thought him a rather stern, unprepossessing sort of man.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I sent for you,” the president began, “but Major Vance assures me you are exactly the man I am looking for.”
Blade raised a black eyebrow, slanting Major Vance a quizzical glance.
“I don’t know what Major Vance told you, but I hope he mentioned I’m mustering out of the army and returning home.”
“Just where is home?”
“Wyoming Territory—mostly,” Blade replied somewhat mysteriously.
“Major Vance apprised me of your history, Captain, so there’s no need for pretense here.”
“I hope you don’t think I was betraying a confidence, Blade,” Major Vance interjected, “but I knew immediately you were the right man for the job.”
“Then you know I am a half-breed, sir,” Blade said with quiet dignity, addressing the president.
“I know you are a fine officer and a credit to the army. I am curious, though, as to how and why you joined the war.”
“My mother is full-blooded Ogallala Sioux, another name for the powerful Dakotas. My father was a French trapper. He fell in love with my mother and married her according to Indian rites. I was raised by the Sioux until my seventeenth year, when Father decided I needed to learn about the white man’s world. He sent me east to school.
“When the war between the North and South began, I knew I must fight on the side of freedom for all races. Few knew of my mixed blood, so it was easy to join the Union Army.”
“An interesting story, Captain Stryker. May I call you Blade?” Blade nodded. “I am convinced you are just the man I need. Will you listen to what I have to say, son?”
“Of course, sir, but it won’t change my mind about leaving the army.”
“There has been increasing unrest on the plains,” President Johnson explained. “The great Indian tribes are unhappy with the treaty of’57 dividing the plains into territories and giving the Indians boundaries. Not only are the different tribes encroaching upon each other’s hunting lands but they are openly warring with whites. They are attacking wagon trains and emigrants traveling the Oregon Trail, disrupting communications, and preventing the railroad from meeting its deadline.