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Authors: In Sarah's Shadow

Harris Channing (26 page)

She
glanced down at the wolf and shaking she moved to Ned's side. "Promise me
you'll be all right."

He
chuckled without humor. "I know better than to make promises like that,
now get going and don't stop until you're in the barn. Understand?"

She
didn't answer, simply stood before him, dumbfound. She understood only too well
what he meant, but she didn't like it.

"I
said do you understand?"

His angry
tone broke through her mind's frantic search for a better solution. One that would
keep them together and have them safely tucked away in the cabin. "Y-Yes.
I do."

"Good.
Then mount up and wait for me in the barn."

Numbly,
she stuck her boot into the stirrup and fought to mount, Ned's constant
movement making it difficult to find her seat. As soon as she was settled,
David raced to the horse's rear and smacked the animal firmly on the buttocks.
Without warning, Ned sped toward home and safety. Bobbie turned her head to see
three wolves chasing after them, their eyes flashing yellow and their mouths
twisted in the nastiest of snarls. Ned cried out as one of the beasts nipped at
his legs, but Bobbie urged him onward, her worry both easing and rising as they
put distance between the wolves and David.

At the
popping sound of David's pistol, one of the beasts fell away and the other two
veered to the left as another round rent through the icy black of night.

Reaching
the barn, she quickly dismounted and ushered Ned inside. Her hands quaked as
she followed him into the darkened stable and reaching for the pitchfork, she
proceeded back out into the night. She wouldn't go far, but by God she wouldn't
stay inside while the man she loved was attacked. She'd rather die alongside
him, that was a certainty.

The moon
broke through the clouds long enough for her to see him racing her way, his
pistol drawn and his rifle over his shoulder. "I told you to get
inside!" he shouted, his voice echoing across the mountaintops.

"I
won't!" she yelled back. "I won't leave you." She shoved her
hand in her pocket, her fingers coming to rest on Reg's small pistol. Wrapping
her frigid fingers around the grip, she held it tight. At the sight of a wolf
rushing toward them, she lifted it and taking aim, she pulled the trigger. As
the bullet left the gun, her world seemed to shift into slow motion. Would her
shot take down the beast before his vicious teeth met David's flesh?

The air
grew eerily silent, the only sound she heard the beating of her own heart.
Finally, the projectile met its intended target and with a soulful yip, the
wolf flipped backward and lay unmoving in a crumpled pile in the snow.

David
appeared before her, his eyes flashing with a pride she wasn't sure she
deserved. His admiration, however, was short lived for he grabbed hold of her
upper arm and yanked her into the safety of the barn. Securing the door he set
his weapons down and in a single swift motion, he pulled her to him and claimed
her lips in a crushing kiss.

She
didn't protest. No, she wouldn't for she needed his touch. Curling her hands in
lapel of his coat, she leaned into him determined to savor each and every
gentle manipulation of his mouth. Her body trembled with relief and her heart
soared. He had forgiven her mistake!

He slid
his arms about her, his hands gliding down her body, stopping only when he
cupped her bottom and pulled her closer. The surge of desire had her body
growing moist with anticipation. When he ground his hips against her, she
moaned at the feel of his arousal.

Oh, how
she longed to be back in their warm bed. A bed she never wanted to leave in
haste, ever again. He pressed his tongue between her teeth and she greedily
welcomed his intrusion. She released her hold on his jacket and slipped her
arms around his neck, her fingers toying with the short curls that stuck out from
beneath his woolen cap.

Yes, he
had cut his hair. And the kiss was softer, more sensual without the scratch of
his whiskers. He had done so much for her today. He had made her a woman,
proven his affection and saved her life.

He pulled
free of her kiss and set his sweet lips to her throat. More moisture saturated
her folds. God, but she wanted him again. Had to have him.

"Is
it safe to go inside?" she asked, her voice raspy. "I have the
fiercest need growing inside me."

He moaned
against her throat. "I want you too, Bobbie. And this time I want no
doubts in your mind. It's you I want, now and until my dying day."

Her
breath caught in her throat. "Do you mean that?"

He
brought his face up to level with hers. "Yes. I mean it."

She
opened her mouth to express her joy but Ned huffed from his open stall. David
blew out a frustrated breath.
 
"His
timing is lousy but he's tired, hungry and scared. I reckon I should see to
him".

"I
reckon you should," she responded. Her momentary disappointment chilled
her desire but not her joy. He had just offered his future to her. She drew her
lower lip between her teeth. Now, if she could only be certain of his love.

 

Chapter 20

 

Bobbie
turned toward the window. Wind whipped at the glass and small specks of snow
tapped upon it with velvet fingers. "Where do you suppose Alfred is? Do
you think he's all right?"

"I
don't know for sure, but I reckon he's fine," he said, stoking the fire.
"The dog is smart and lived out in the weather on a fiercer night than
this."

While
they had been out battling wolves, the fire had faded and the cabin had grown
cold. Still, despite the chill, her body hummed with an inner warmth that had
her watching every move David made. The way he stoked the fire, the way he
removed his coat, the way he ran long fingers through his hair, everything he
did sent a heated rush of desire through her body.

Perhaps
it was the adrenaline from their adventure. Perhaps it was his promise of a
future. Whatever it was, she wanted him with a desperation that threatened to
swallow her whole. Yet, she merely stood there, watching, admiring.

Finally,
he turned to her and the beauty of him took control. In her frantic need to
confess what she had done, she had overlooked his miraculous metamorphosis. He
had truly broken free of his wooly cocoon. Chiseled features met her intense
gaze, smooth skin begged for her touch and the dimples in his cheeks pleased
her beyond belief. He had the looks of a rugged angel. She imagined Michael
would have chosen to look like David Henderson had he been offered a choice.

Her heart
sent roaring blood to her nether regions and she twisted a lock of hair around
her index finger. Yet, he didn't stop readying the cabin for the evening. He
ate supper, drank coffee and still she stood in the shadows, watching him,
waiting for him to do
something
.

Finally,
he sat in the rocking chair and looked at her. "You're awful quiet and why
are you lurking about like a mouse in a house full of cats?" She didn't
answer, but did step forward, relishing the way his hungry gaze scanned her
form. "Come sit with me. I'll look about for Alfred in my adventures
tomorrow." He held out his hand and waggled his fingers. "Don't tell
me you're going to be shy, now."

Giddiness
had her wanting to skip toward him but she restrained herself. She didn't want
to appear too eager, but my oh my, wasn't that what she was? Stumbling the last
few steps she stopped before him, wondering how she could sit with him when he
occupied the only chair in the cabin. Perhaps he meant the hearth? Yes, she'd
warm her back by the fire and still be able to examine the face that she wanted
to see every morning until the day she died.

As she
took a step away, he grabbed hold of her fingers, stopping her with his gentle
grasp. "Sit with me," he said. "Curl your precious body next to
mine and allow me to hold you for a bit."

She gazed
down upon him, his green eyes wide and full of affection…affection meant just
for her. Her heart softened and emotion threatened to have her confessing her
undying love for him, yet she said nothing. It wasn't the right time. And it
wouldn't be, not until he said the three words that would convince her that his
heart now belonged to her. That Sarah was his past and that she, Bobbie
Shallcross, the farmer's daughter from Illinois, was the woman he wanted to
share his present…and future with.

She
lowered herself into his lap and rested her head on his shoulder. He smelled of
fresh air, wood smoke, and a scent that belonged only to him. A rich, spicy
scent that drove a spiraling tremor through her body and a yearning through her
soul.

Closing
her eyes she cuddled closer, her arms wrapped around his neck. He gently rocked
back and forth, his hands holding her securely in place. She felt so safe and
protected, warm and cared for. She never wanted this moment to end and never
wanted to be away from him again. She wanted everything he had to offer, his
last name, his love, his children.

"I
love you," she whispered so low she was certain he couldn't hear. Yet she
wished she had the courage to say it louder. Wished that she could tell him
everyday when they woke up and everyday as they went to bed just how much she
cared.

His body
tensed and with an ease that surprised her he stood, cradling her in his arms.
"I want to make love to you again," he whispered in her ear.
"But understand that when I leave it is with regret that I must arise.
Your side is where I want be, Bobbie."

Chills
raced across her flesh and she welcomed his loving confession. "I feel the
same way," she admitted. "I want you there. Always."

He set
her upon the bed and stared down her a long moment, the affection mirrored in
his eyes, flashing to lust. He lowered his body atop hers, his knee between
hers thighs. Resting on his elbows, he framed her face with his hands, his
fingertips cool as he caressed her cheeks.

"You
are so beautiful and yet you don't seem to realize it."

His words
brought forth a gentle smile. Her mother had always said she was a lovely girl,
her father, however, lamented that she was too much of a tomboy to attract the
merchants and bankers that worked in town.
"You're
a poor farmer's daughter and you'll be a poor farmer's wife."

His harsh
judgment of not only her but of himself seemed like eons ago. Her life, she
realized, was an endless string of moments that led her to a man she should
have never met but was destined to love.

He kissed
her forehead and pulling back, brushed a curl from her cheek. "I love you,
too, my precious Bobbie."

His
admission had her gasping. "Y-You heard that?"

He
chuckled. "Why shouldn't I hear it?" he asked. "It was meant for
me.
You
were meant for me."

Her heart
soared. He loved her too and he realized the truth. God had given them one
another and the very love they shared was what had saved them from bitter
loneliness. Their love offered each of them a future, not dark and bleak but
full of hope.

She
reached up and wrapped her arms about him, drawing him closer.
"David," she whispered his name. "Tell me again."

"Tell
you what?" he asked, his gaze soft upon her face. "That I love you? That
I want to see your face upon my daughters, and feel your spirit within my
sons?"

"You
want to have a family with me?"

"I
want to be your family, Bobbie. I see the fierceness of your love. It rivals
mine." He pressed a kiss to her lips, not one solely of passion, but one
of promise. She arched against him, her fingers curing in the woolen shirt.
She'd never be able to get him close enough to satisfy the desire that raced
through her.

All
doubts, all fear, all worry sped from her as she took what he offered. Her
parched soul finally quenched by his admission of love and of a life filled
with passion and happiness.

He must
have sensed her complete and utter abandon, for he moaned and his breathing
grew fast. She ran her hands down the length of his shirt. Finding the hem, she
pulled it up, her fingers urgently seeking the warmth of his flesh and the
strength of his muscles.

Pulling
back he grinned before rising just enough to unfasten the buttons of her gown.
His fingers trembled and he grumbled. "I'm like a school boy, all thumbs
and ardor."

She
released her hold and gently pushed his hands away. "Let me." Without
thought of modesty, she unfastened the buttons and freed herself from the
confines of her bodice. Her nipples grew tight as the cool air licked them, her
chemise no match for winter's kiss. But winter's kiss no match for David's.

He tugged
at the light fabric until it slipped away and uncovered the treasure beneath.
Her breasts rose and fell as she gasped for breath. Cupping each mound, he
lazily moved from nipple to nipple. Sucking gently, he had her squirming. Yes,
it felt good. Yes, it sent ripples a need flooding through her. But it wasn’t
what she wanted. She wanted him. All of him. Dear Lord but she had to have him!

She
arched her back and unfastening her skirt, he pushed it and her petticoats
down, leaving her in nothing by her chemise and…

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