Northern Star (43 page)

She laughed at his hesitation. Pushing his hands over her hips as she knelt above him, she slowly untied her camisole. The morning light had turned the inside of the basket from chocolate to milky gray. When the first tie lay open, she worked on the second. “Tell me to stop, my love, and I will.” She’d been so near death a few hours before that now she wanted only to taste life. “Just say one word. Order me to stop.”

Hunter was silent.

“Tell me you haven’t longed for me in your dreams as dearly as I’ve longed for you.” The second tie fell free, opening Perry’s very heart to this man she’d loved from the moment she’d seen his face. “Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll stop this torture.” She twisted the bow loose on the next tie. “From the moment we met, we’ve never known how much time we would have together.” Perry pulled the last ribbon free and the camisole fell open. “But we have this moment, and for me it is my lifetime.”

Hunter watched her with passion-filled eyes, loving,
wanting, and cherishing her all at the same time. She lowered her mouth over his and began driving him mad with her feather-light kisses. “Tell me to stop, my love,” she whispered against his open mouth, “or make love to me.” With her final demand she lowered her bare breasts against his chest.

He surrendered willingly, twisting her in his embrace until he lay atop her. “I’ll make love to you, my angel, now and for the rest of my life.”

There was no more time for words as he undressed and lay beside her. Gently he kissed her body and moved his fingers over every inch of her flesh, forever branding her as his own. His fingers glided as smoothly as the balloon crossing a cloudless sky. The taste of her was as clean and fresh as mile-high air over snowcapped mountains. He was drifting into a passion that spanned his life’s horizons and to which there’d never be a setting sun. He’d reached for an angel and captured perfection in his arms.

She followed his lead, loving the way his muscles tightened beneath her touch. Running her fingers over the scar on his shoulder, she remembered every time he’d held her, every moment his lips had touched hers, but none were as sweet as this moment, this time. There was no taking in his actions but only a giving—a giving of all the love he’d banked for a lifetime.

When he entered her, she didn’t cry out in pain. All the discomfort was drowned in a flood of pleasure. They were together as one, and he found the piece that had always been missing from his life. He belonged to her as completely as she belonged to him. As he moved within her they floated to heaven and sealed for eternity a bond between them.

Stretching with the sweet pleasure that filled her, Perry drifted back to earth. She curled beneath Hunter’s arm and fell asleep. No matter what happened, she knew he loved her, and that, somehow, was all that mattered.

Hunter lay awake, loving the way she felt in his arms.
A tight knot twisted in the pit of his stomach. He loved her, totally and completely. When she’d given herself to him, it had been Hunter who’d surrendered his heart. He had sworn never to care deeply for a woman, but she’d broken down all his defenses. And now she was at the very core of him.

He smiled finally, understanding his father and grandfather. He wanted a lifetime with Perry, but even if he had only this one moment, it would be worth all the pain of losing her.

Hunter leaned to kiss her sleeping forehead as the sound of the creaking barn door reached his ears, shattering the peace from his mind.

“Get dressed!” Hunter whispered as footsteps shuffled through the hay outside the basket.

He silently pulled on his clothes. The barn door creaked again, louder, bolder. Hunter jerked on his boots and listened.

“What ya doing in here?” a man shouted.

Abram’s voice was calm. “Don’t see that it’s any of your concern, Preacher, but I’m getting this balloon ready.”

“Where is Hunter Kirkland?” It was obvious the minister saw no need to waste time being polite to the huge black man.

“I haven’t seen him in a while,” Abram answered. Hunter gently touched her shoulder, warning her to be silent.

Cleland’s voice snapped, “What’s that you got there?”

“Supplies.”

“Well, if you see Mr. Kirkland, you might tell him I’d like to speak with him before he leaves. I’ll be back later.”

Abram’s voice was frigid. “You do that, Preacher.”

As the side door slammed behind the minister, Hunter casually slid from beneath the basket. “Morning.”

“Morning.” Abram showed no surprise at Hunter’s sudden appearance. “I brought you and Miss Perry some
breakfast.” He lay a basket on the workbench. “Biscuits with sausages dipped in honey.”

Hunter accepted one. “Let’s give her some privacy while we spread the balloon out between the barn and the house.” Hunter was having trouble controlling his smile. He wanted to shout across the heavens. He was the luckiest man alive. But he cleared his throat and tried to sound calm. “I’m ready to get back to Washington and a normal life.”

“Me too.” Abram studied his captain. “Is the little lady coming with us this time?”

Hunter faced his old friend. “She’d be safer here, but I love her too much to leave her behind.”

Laughter bubbled from Abram. “It sure took you long enough to realize it. I was beginning to think you hit your head when you fell from the sky the last time. There isn’t a place on this earth that little lady will be safer than between us.”

Hunter ignored his teasing as he worked. “What happened with the men at Wade’s place?”

Abram lifted the ropes and followed. “I stayed back and watched for about an hour. The house caught fire during all the shooting. They were waiting around for the blaze to die down. My guess is they’ll identify Wade’s body as yours and proclaim themselves heroes by the time they get back to Raleigh.”

Hunter agreed, knowing that the kind of men who hunted in gangs were usually not long on bravery, nor intelligence.

By the time the balloon was ready for flight, the minister reappeared like polecat stink after a rain. He hurried toward Hunter, obviously a man with a mission.

“Mr. Kirkland!” he shouted. “I would like to speak to you before you leave.”

Hunter nodded, having already decided to donate the land close to the church for the new building to stand on.
His dislike for the reverend had been the only thing that had kept him from making the announcement.

As Reverend Cleland skirted the balloon Hunter looked toward the barn. He was unprepared for the beauty that stepped into the sunlight. Her hair tumbled around her like sunlit ebony, and her cape flowed around her like royal robes.

She walked toward him, and he suddenly knew that in fifty years she’d still look the same to him. She was all that was perfect in the world, all that was beauty.

Perry smiled. “Is something wrong, Mr. Kirkland?”

“Yes,” Hunter whispered. “Marry me.”

“Now?”

“At this moment.” Suddenly Hunter could wait no longer to share his name or his life. He pulled her toward the balloon.

“Reverend Cleland, I must leave, but I want you to know that I left the acres beside the church to the building fund.”

Cleland clapped his hands. “Oh, that is wonderful. Just wonderful.”

Hunter interrupted his celebration. “I ask only one favor. This lovely lady and I wish to be married.”

Cleland’s face dropped suddenly. “That’s impossible. I was led to understand she was your, well, your”—he didn’t dare say what he thought—“your houseguest.” The thin man began to sweat. “That was bad enough, but marrying her…well, that just can’t be done.”

“I don’t care what you thought, but you best take care with your speech.” Hunter’s eyes turned a cold gray. “The lady will be my wife. You
are
licensed to marry folks?”

“Certainly.” The reverend moved a few feet away. “Only if you wed this woman, you’ll be arrested.”

“What!” Hunter exploded. He grabbed the man by the lapels and almost shook religion from him with one mighty jolt. “You’d better explain, for I assure you, sir, I do plan to marry this lady.”

“I wasn’t planning on mentioning this.” The minister pulled a paper from his pocket. “But your cousin came by to see me a few days ago. He feared something like this might be attempted, and he wanted to protect you. He gave me this document, which states that Allison McLain, Perry’s mother, was the daughter of a slave from Three Oaks. There’s even a letter here from Allison’s father testifying to the fact.”

Cleland looked up, as if the papers were somehow a shield. “As you know, Mr. Kirkland, in North Carolina it is illegal for a white man to marry a woman of color.”

Hunter’s anger reached a point of deadly calm. He moved toward the preacher slowly, deliberately.

“Hunter!” Abram shouted. “Riders coming.”

They all glanced far to the north and saw a cloud of dust moving fast. Hunter grabbed Perry and lifted her into the balloon. “Hold this,” he whispered as he shoved his Colt into her hand, then turned and shoved the minister into the basket.

“Take aim on our guest!” Hunter shouted loud enough for Cleland to hear. “If he moves, shoot him!” He turned toward the frightened preacher. “Don’t worry about her being a good shot. If she fires, we’ll all go up in flames.”

Abram threw the grounding rope over and hopped into the wicker gondola. Within moments the basket broke loose from the ground and they moved upward, as if someone in the sky were pulling them into the clouds.

“You can’t do this!” Cleland whined. His eyes were darting about him like a man who’d just been thrown in a snake pit.

“Just taking you nearer to heaven,” Abram said solemnly. “’Course, if you don’t want to come, you’re welcome to climb out.”

Cleland glanced over the edge for help, but the men below were too far away to hear him. His hands gripped the basket tightly as he watched his world grow smaller below him. “What kind of insanity is this?”

“My plan is unchanged. I wish to marry Perry, and nothing you can say will change my mind.” Hunter faced him with cold directness. “What better church than the heavens? You may perform the wedding service new, or you can start flapping your arms and pray you learn to fly before you hit the ground.”

The reverend hesitated. He might have called Hunter’s bluff, but he felt Abram’s massive hand on his shoulder. “I have no Bible and you have no rings.”

Abram’s grip tightened, lifting him off the floor of the basket.

“All right!” The reverend reconsidered. “I’ll marry you!”

“Thanks, Abram.” Hunter winked. “The minister seems to have received some divine guidance. Set him down.”

Hunter pulled Perry close. “Abram found your bag at the farmhouse, my love. If you’d like to dress and comb your hair, the wedding can wait a moment.” Then, to the others he added, “Gentlemen, if you’ll turn around and allow my future wife a few moments of privacy…”

Abram and the minister turned their backs as Hunter helped Perry open her bag. Abram began telling the minister of the workings of the balloon, as if he were a willing guest and not a prisoner in the small craft.

As Perry removed her cape she looked up shyly into Hunter’s love-filled eyes and whispered, “Aren’t you going to turn your back while I dress?”

“Not on your life,” Hunter answered. “You might as well understand something from the first, Perry Kirkland. I plan to spend the rest of my life watching you.”

Perry shrugged her slender shoulders and smiled at him honestly. She pulled her dress from the bag as her mother’s pouch fell to the basket floor.

Hunter picked it up. “Did you say there were old papers in this?”

“Yes, and a few rings. Perhaps we could use them.”

Hunter opened the pouch. “We can buy rings in Washington. I want you always to wear that medallion I gave you.” He smiled as the gold disk reflected the morning sun. “Many a night I’ve thought of my name carved into the gold of that small disk. My name nestling lovingly in a place I long to lay my head.”

Perry blushed scarlet, and not even the breeze could cool her cheeks. “Hunter,” she scolded, “we’re not alone.”

“That fact has never evaded me. Were we alone, I would tell you far more.” He laughed as she turned her lovely back to him.

“The crest on the front of that necklace is about all that remains of the Kirkland family. Several generations ago the clan left England for America. As far as I know, I’m the only one left. But we’ll change that very soon. I’m looking forward to many dark-eyed, black-haired Kirkland children.”

Perry refused to look at him as she combed her hair. He thumbed through the papers in her bag. As the contents of the letters registered on his mind, Hunter gave them his full attention.

Perry finished, then turned to find him reading the papers. A smile spread across his face as he read.

“Reverend Cleland!” he shouted. “Would it relieve your mind if I could show proof that your document from Wade is a forgery?”

“How?” Cleland glanced over his shoulder without letting go of the basket edge.

“I have here birth documents of Perry’s mother and of both Perry and Andrew McLain. Hunter held the papers tightly in the wind. “Perry’s mother must have feared that old forgery might turn up.”

All aboard the tiny craft gathered around as Reverend Cleland examined the documents. After several minutes he huffed. “’Pears to be in order. I fear I may have been tricked by Wade.” He hated admitting his error but saw
no point in insisting he was right when the evidence was so obviously on Hunter’s side.

A few minutes later he married Hunter Kirkland and Perry McLain among the clouds somewhere over North Carolina. Then they gently lowered the balloon and set him aground several miles from his church. Though he walked many hours to reach home, the reverend never stopped thanking God his feet were on solid ground.

Perry awoke to church bells sounding outside her window. She looked around for a moment, confused. She remembered the long balloon ride, then climbing onto a horse and traveling several hours. Finally, when she could no longer hold the reins, Hunter held her in his arms. Vaguely she remembered being carried upstairs and tucked into bed.