Dawson Bride (Wolf Brides Book 3) (15 page)

He’d gone still, and his eyes round. The man seemed helpless to take his attention from between my legs as he stood slowly. With his pants in a pile near my dress on the floor, the bed creaked as he positioned himself behind me.

“Lucianna,” he rumbled, my name reverent upon his lips. He slid his hands around my waist and forced an arch in my back until my pelvis tilted up for him.

Slowly—agonizingly slowly—he slid into me. I sighed happily when I felt his hips against my backside. I was sore, but didn’t hurt like last night. Already, my body seemed to be adjusting to take Gable’s girth.

“Here,” he murmured against my ear as he nibbled it. “Like this.” He took my hand and guided it between my legs.

I could feel him sliding slowly in and out of me, feel the wetness he’d conjured there, feel the sensitive spot he’d discovered last night. I’d never touched myself like this before, but Gable kissed my shoulder blades and pressed my hand against myself more firmly. It was hard to feel shame when my mate was so open.

His rhythmic thrusting quickened and filled me with a desperation to relieve the pressure he was building inside of me. The sound of his thighs hitting mine made me cry out in ecstasy, and when at last I detonated around him, he froze, hovered over me. He groaned and breathed my name, and his powerful hips jerked as he spilled into me.

We stayed like that for a long time, locked together and depleted. He never stopped kissing my back and neck, and when at last he pulled out of me, warmth trickled down my thighs.

“Stay there,” he said low, and then he pulled a clean strip of linen from his bag. Gently, he cleaned me, then blew out the lantern and tucked me against the curve of his stomach.

I’d known what he was for an entire day and still, the expected fear never made an appearance. Being like this, with him, under the umbrella of safety his body provided…it only served to make me need him more.

Gable

Talk of avenging Lucianna and her family scared her. I’d make it up to her by keeping the time until then as happy as possible.

“Hup!” I clacked the reins against the back of a mule and he gave me more. With my brothers and I all working, the fields would be ready in time to get the seeds down just when Luke felt it was right. The man had a sixth sense about that kind of stuff, just like Da did when he and Ma lived in the country.

I’d start building her a house in the evening hours when our days’ work was done. For too long, the homestead had fallen on my brothers’ shoulders, and even now, with the added help of their wives, which made a tremendous difference, there was still plenty to do. If we pooled our efforts and worked hard, this could be our best year yet.

Luke had sold most of the cattle last season in an effort to bring in a big haul of cash so he could hunt down the woman bent on Kristina’s slow destruction. It left us with too few cattle left to breed a good herd. Some of the bounty money would have to be used to buy more stock, but Jeremiah assured me that had always been the plan. They’d grown crafty while I was gone and eeked out a profit from a small ranch where many were struggling. It probably helped they each had the strength of three men and could see their work just fine in the dark.

Enough of the fancy lumber was left over from Kristina’s ex lover’s apology that we’d finish half the house with it at least. I’d have to cut the rest, which would take time, but that extra bedroom may come in handy someday. The barn was fine for now, but I’d seen the country manor she was living in and that sprawling property wasn’t even the main London home she lived in.

Lucianna deserved better and I aimed to give it to her.

Luke brought me a canteen of water and I took a long swig. “What?” I demanded at his cool glare.

“You going to visit Oupita?”

“Dammit, Luke.” I tossed the canteen out of the way and put the reins over my shoulder again. A short whistle trilled from my lips and moved the mule, but my green-eyed shit-stirrin’ brother didn’t get the hint and followed along beside me over the uneven clumps of dirt.

“I’m just sayin’, she’d like to know you’re safe. Probably. She might actually be disappointed you’re not dead.”

“I have a mate now, Luke. What possible reason would I have to be going over there and stirrin’ things up?”

“Oh, I don’t know. For closure? You came back to us full wolf, Gable. You have to start pickin’ apart the reasons why you ran. Jeremiah and I, we don’t have one bad thought about you runnin’ off, joining a war that didn’t concern us. We don’t have a bitter taste in our mouths about the years you just didn’t feel like coming back home either. But now that you are, it wouldn’t be terrible if we could get the old Gable back. Or hell, a fraction of the old you.”

“We were just kids. I don’t need closure with her.”

“How do you know?” Luke stomped away. “Nice eyes!” he yelled over his shoulder.

“Nyaaaaah!” I snarled.

Even the mule was starting to panic and it couldn’t even see me through its blinders.

Oh, should I? Should I go visit the girl I left without so much as a goodbye? Should I revisit what a coward I’d been when I left and rode off to go fight in a war that had nothing to do with her or her people? I cursed loud enough for Luke to hear it. I hadn’t thought of the girl in years and now a hundred summer memories dredged up from the bowels of my mind. I didn’t feel anything for her anymore. All of my energy and devotion was for Lucianna. My mate made me happy, she satisfied me, she understood and accepted me. And what had my relationship with Oupita been like? We fought like titans.

Thoughts of the girl made me long for the numbness of the wolf. What could possibly come from seeing her again? Lucianna’s plea to stay human drifted through my mind. Of course I’d do anything for her. She deserved everything I had and more, but what could digging up the past do to improve my control over the monster in me?

An apology.

The answer was so simple. Oupita wouldn’t accept it in a thousand years and I wouldn’t blame her one bit, but I could say the words and let the guilt go. It would leave one less thing rattling around in my brain and tempting me to go animal. I could see her happy and moved on, and I wouldn’t have to feel like I ruined her life anymore.

****

I woke before the rooster. Through the rustling of my clothes, Lucianna slept soundly within the warm folds of the bearskin blanket on our bed. Even if I was doing this for her, guilt tugged at me. Maybe I should’ve told her. But if I told her she’d worry it meant something, and it didn’t. I wasn’t doing this to go revisit an old flame. I was doing it so I could own my demons and become a better man for her. No. I couldn’t put that kind of worry on her heart. She’d lost everything and I didn’t want her for one minute thinking she’d ever lose me. I climbed down the ladder and pulled my horse from his stall. A saddle would be too loud but I was all right without one. I was just as comfortable riding bareback.

I hadn’t a hope that Oupita would be waiting at our meeting place from when we were younger. She might have waited there for a couple of weeks, but eventually she’d figured it out. She was an intelligent woman. I’d have more luck heading to the reservation the Ute had been driven to. Her family belonged to a small band of nomadic Indians, but she’d probably hooked up with a bigger tribe on the reservation. My Ute was rusty, but hopefully I could get by with just understanding the language. If not, enough of them had English. I’d find a way to track her down.

For old time’s sake, I rode right through the lands she used to live in with her tribe. They traveled where food was, but the area was central to their territory. Usually I could pick up a scent but they likely moved on years ago. Not much hope for that today. The sky was overcast and it brought out the rich green of the new grass that had sprung up after a winter of stagnancy. My horse snorted and bobbed its head as I pulled up to a long dead campfire. I narrowed my eyes. It wasn’t steaming, and when I dismounted, it wasn’t warm to the touch, but a fire had been made here recently. I rubbed some of the ashes between my fingers and scanned the clearing. Surely they weren’t still roaming around out here somewhere.

I released the dry, dead embers, and the dust traveled west on the wind. The smells in the clearing were so old, it was hard to recognize any of them with any certainty. The grass wasn’t tall enough to break under careless footfall and point me in the right direction. The Indians had a way of appearing and disappearing as they pleased and leaving little evidence of their rhythm and way of life.

I walked west with the wind. My horse followed without pulling the antics he did the first day. He was content to be in the wilderness and not confined to a corral for now. My nose missed nothing. Not a bunny ran for brush, not a field mouse escaped my attention. A thousand smells sifted through the lining of my sensitive nose, and instinctively I sifted through the ones I didn’t care about until only a few remained. I didn’t pick up anything important until well after mid-day. The smell of tanned dear hide, horses, and the sweet scent of ceremonial smoke gave the Indians away. Only problem was I couldn’t tell if I’d found the right tribe. While my brothers and I had always been on good terms with the Ute, other bands feared what we were and weren’t as friendly.

The seven large painted tipis told me I’d found the right people. Artwork differed from nation to nation and Ute painting and beadwork was no different. I left my horse tied to a low hanging branch and slid silently around the tree line.

“Mahtuhgurch Sahdteech,” a pair of women chanted.

They pointed to the north and I stepped carefully so as not to disrupt the stretched skins they worked upon. It had been years since I’d heard the nickname the Ute had given my brothers and I. A rough translation said I was a Dog of the Moon. I liked that nickname much more than the one I was given on the battlefield.
The Gable
stripped my humanity away. It was a painful reminder of how people, other soldiers, had seen me.

Oupita stood in a clearing next to a black horse. With a delicate touch she tied feathers into its mane. I crouched in the cover of the trees and rubbed my jawline with distracted fingers. She’d changed. She wasn’t the pin thin Indian girl from my memories anymore. She was a woman. I’d expected her to look just as she did when I left for some reason, and the surprise kept me to my hiding place in the shadows. She wore her hair long, and its shining black tresses cascaded down her long, cream-colored deer hide dress. She wore yucca fiber sandals and hummed quietly to herself. When she turned, her belly was swollen with child. She bent to pick up a woven basket and rested it on her hip.

I leaned forward out of the shadow of the trees but pulled back at a sound.

A man approached. His hair was long and braided into two trailing lengths over his shoulders. He wore a breechcloth with leather leggings over moccasins, and Oupita lit up like a new moon when he stopped in front of her. Saying something low, he flashed an easy smile. His hand rested on the swell of her belly as he kissed her. When he left her with a backward glance, she giggled and watched him leave with an adoring gaze.

“Why ain’t you on the reservation?” I asked as she turned.

Her gaze crashed onto mine, and the look of fury on her face brought chills to my skin.

For a full minute she stood frozen like the rivers in winter. She was still just as beautiful with her dark, intelligent eyes and full lips. Her chest heaved with the shock I’d brought to her. She pulled the basket in front of her belly, like a shield but still, I couldn’t keep my eyes away from the promise of life there.

“Where’s your Ute?” she asked in a rich voice.

I plucked a blade of new grass and fidgeted with it. I stood slowly. “Haven’t had much use for it.”

Disgust and accusation decorated her tone. “You lost it.” She ran her dark eyes down the length of me. “You look different. Sadder. Tired.” She cocked her head and studied the scars across my face. “I see your war brought you everything you hoped.”

Jeremiah must’ve told her why I’d gone.

“The biggest part of that war revolved around slavery, Oupita. I thought if I could make a difference and win it, people would look at the slaves differently. Better. I thought that open mindedness would trickle down to you, to your family, to your people.”

She tipped her chin higher. “Why didn’t you tell me that before you left? Why didn’t you tell me goodbye?”

I made and exasperated noise in my throat and offered my palms. How did I explain something I’d done so long ago? “Because I was a stupid kid. I didn’t know how to say goodbye to something I didn’t understand. I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry for how I left you.”

She’d stopped breathing. I could tell because I couldn’t hear anything save a heartbeat from her. “Is that why you came here? To put your mind at ease? Do you know I rode to our spot every day for months? I cried and cried and one day, your brother was there to tell me you’d gone. I’d given you everything and you spat on it. I forgive you Mahtuhgurch Sahdteech. Not for you, but for me. You brought bitterness into my life. Now, I’m letting it go. You want to know why we aren’t on the reservation? Because your government has already broken their word. We lost the mineral rights within five years and the gold rush has brought more white men to invade the land they gave us. And still the government presses our chiefs for more. We’re here because we follow Kicking Bull. He’s kept us safe—kept up our way of life. My children will be brought up wild and uncaged the way it’s always been for our people.”

“Peeh!” a little boy said as he bolted through the clearing. He ran straight for Oupita and latched onto her legs.

She scooted in front of him but not before I’d seen his face. My heart stopped. The boy had lighter skin, and though his hair was the raven black of his people, his eyes were light gray.

“Who’s he?” the boy asked in his language.

“No one,” Oupita answered. “Go play.”

He walked away slowly, never taking his eyes from me. He looked to be about six and I forced my gaze to his mother. “Is he mine?”

She gave a short, humorless laugh. “My son has a father. One who wouldn’t ever run away. Do you have a woman, Mahtuhgurch Sahdteech?”

Her use of my formal name stung. Things between us hadn’t just been broken. They had been blasted apart by dynamite. “I have a woman.”

“Good. Go home to her. Never come here again. I forgive you, now I want to forget you.”

“Oupita, for the boy, for your unborn child, you must get to the reservation. There’re soldiers here who will force you to go, or worse.”

“None of which is your concern.” Her eyes were rimmed with tears. “Go. Go!”

I glanced at the place between two tipis the boy had disappeared. My guts were being ripped open as I backed away. Nothing else could account for this amount of pain inside of me.

I left her to her life.

We’d both gained closure, but Luke had been wrong. It didn’t do me any good.

Tree branches whipped past me as I rode for a destination I didn’t even think about. It wasn’t home because of the place I’d left behind and the memories that filled it. It was home because Lucianna was there, and nothing else could sooth the fire in my soul.