Wolf Shadow (13 page)

His hand on her shoulder was comforting.

His gaze, resting on her face, was disquieting.

“How long…” Her throat was suddenly dry. She swallowed and
licked her lips. “How long until we get back home?”

“A few days. Don’t worry, we’ll make it.”

Looking at him, at the determined set of his jaw, she didn’t
doubt him for a minute.

Gradually, the heat of the sun warmed them. Winter Rain
dozed, her head resting against his shoulder.

Holding her, Chance felt a wave of protectiveness wash over
him. She was so young, so innocent, so at home with the Lakota people. How
would she react to life in San Francisco? Would she hate him for taking her
back to her parents? The thought gave him pause, but, in the end, it didn’t
matter. He couldn’t afford to worry about her feelings or what she wanted. If
he was going to save his ranch, he needed that ten grand and he needed it right
quick!

She sighed and he tightened his arm around her shoulders.

She wasn’t shivering anymore. Her skin was warm beneath his
hand, her tunic was almost dry. Her hair was soft against his cheek. Damn. She
smelled of rain and sunshine and woman. It was a potent combination and his
body reacted automatically. He shifted uncomfortably, his erection as hard as
the rock they were sitting on.

She was sleeping soundly now. Her head lolled forward.
Scooting over a little to give her more room, he eased her down until her head
was resting on his thigh.

He shook his head, wondering why he had inflicted such
torture on himself.

Her eyelashes lay like thick black fans against her
sun-kissed cheeks. Her lips, slightly parted, were as pink as the petals of the
wild roses that grew along the river back at the ranch. His gaze was drawn to
the slight rise and fall of her breasts. He clenched his hands to keep from
touching her. Lust, he told himself. It was just lust, nothing more. It didn’t
matter that her eyes were as blue as a high mountain lake or that her skin was
smooth and unblemished. And if her legs were long and shapely and her hair was
as soft as silk beneath his hand, it didn’t change a thing. It was still just
lust, an itch that he could have scratched when he got back home.

But for now, he was content to sit there and watch her
sleep.

* * * * *

The little girl looked out the window, the wonder in her
eyes turning to horror as dust and war cries filled the air. Dust clogged her
nostrils, fear was a hard lump in her stomach. The girl clung to her mother,
cried out when an arrow hit her father. How had she ever thought the Indians
were beautiful or exciting? She screamed when one of the warriors grabbed her
and pulled her out of her mother’s arms and out of the coach.

Winter Rain woke with a cry echoing in her ears, only then
realizing it had come from her own throat.

Opening her eyes, she saw Wolf Shadow staring down at her.

Shaken, she glanced around. Where was she? She looked back
at Wolf Shadow, and dissolved into tears.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He drew her up into his arms and
patted her back.

“I…I remember.” She sat up. Sobs racked her body. “Eagle
Lance shot my daddy. He pulled me out of the coach and took me home with him.”
She took a long shuddering breath. “I remember crying for my mother while he
carried me away.”

So, he thought, after all these years, she finally
remembered what had happened. That should make things easier.

“I was so afraid. We rode for days before we reached the
village. When we got there, Eagle Lance gave me to Mountain Sage. I remember
that she cried when she hugged me.”

“The Bryants have been looking for you ever since you were
taken from them.”

“They are well? Both of them?”

“Yes.”

She stared into the distance, her thoughts obviously turned
inward. She didn’t speak for several minutes, and then she said, “I do not want
to go back. Not now. Not ever.” She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin
defiantly. “And you cannot make me.”

He could, he thought. He could take her back right now.
There was no one to stop him, but he wouldn’t. Not until they had gone back to
the village. Winter Rain had a right to know whether Mountain Sage and Eagle
Lance were still alive. And he couldn’t go back to the ranch, not until he knew
what had happened to Kills-Like-a-Hawk and his family.

With a shrug, Chance slid off the rock and stretched his
arms and legs. “I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I could use something to
eat.”

She didn’t say anything, but she went to the
parfleche
and pulled out a couple hunks of jerky. She handed him a piece, then sat down
on the rock again.

Chance looked up at the sky, glad to see that it was clear.
He ran his hand over Winter Rain’s sleeping robe and his saddle blanket, then
turned them both over. They would be fully dry by nightfall.

He glanced at their back trail, wondering if the Crow would
come after them. He had killed three of their warriors. Would they decide to
avenge their dead? Chance didn’t think there was much to worry about. The storm
would have washed out their tracks.

Swallowing the last of the jerky, he picked up the waterskin
and took a drink, then went to check the hobbles on the horses.

Smoke whinnied softly as he approached, then rubbed her
forehead against his chest.

“I wish all females were as easy to please as you are,” he
muttered as he obligingly scratched the mare’s ears. He glanced over his
shoulder at Winter Rain, who was taking a stroll beyond the rock. “What am I
gonna do about that one?”

Smoke snorted softly and shook her head.

“Yeah, I don’t know either. She’s got me tied in knots, you
know? Got me thinking about what it would be like to settle down.” He swore
softly. “I must be getting soft in the head. I don’t have time for a year-round
woman.”

His gaze followed Winter Rain, resting on the sway of her hips
as she walked away. She stopped at a berry bush. He watched her bend over to
pick a handful. His mouth watered as he watched her pop a few of the purple
berries into her mouth. But it wasn’t the fruit that made his own mouth water;
it was the way her tongue slid over her lips to lick up the juice. Damn!

Muttering an oath, he turned his back to her. Dammit, what
was
he going to do about Winter Rain? He hadn’t been this attracted to a woman in
years. Every time he looked at her, he felt like a kid with his first case of
lust. Just looking at her made him ache with wanting her.

A few minutes later, he sensed her presence behind him.

“I found some berries,” she said. “Do you want some?”

He turned to face her. She held out her hands, which were
filled with the fat purple fruit. But it was her mouth that drew his attention.
Her lips were red with juice.

“Thanks.” His voice was gruff.

She watched him eat a few. “They are good, yes?”

“Yeah.” He ate a few more, wondering what she would do if he
kissed her, if his tongue licked the juice from the corner of her mouth.

Her gaze met his. As if reading his mind, she took a step
backward.

Chance was trying to decide whether to fish or cut bait when
Smoke gave him a sharp push with her nose. He stumbled forward, his arms closing
around Winter Rain to keep from knocking her to the ground. The last of the
fruit tumbled from her hands as she clutched his shoulders to keeping from
falling.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide, like a doe scenting
danger on the evening breeze.

He told himself to let her go and back off. His life was
complicated enough without seducing a virgin. No woman was worth ten thousand
dollars.

But her skin was soft and warm beneath his hands, her lips
red and far too tempting for any mortal man to resist once he had tasted their
sweetness. He lowered his head, slowly, giving her plenty of warning. Giving
her plenty of time to back away.

And then it was too late. His mouth closed on hers as his
arm tightened around her waist, until her upper body was pressed intimately
against his.

He didn’t close his eyes, and neither did she. For a moment,
she stood rigid in his embrace. Then, with a sigh, her eyelids fluttered down
and she surrendered to the shivery sensations sweeping through her.

His hands moved slowly up and down her back, then slid lower
to cup her buttocks, drawing her still closer, letting her feel his arousal. It
excited her even as it sent tremors of uncertainty coursing through her. She
knew she should tell him to stop but when she opened her mouth to tell him so,
his tongue slid inside, stealing the strength from her legs, robbing her of
coherent thought.

Another minute, Chance thought, and she’d be flat on her
back. Swearing softly, he let her go. Hands clenched at his sides, he took a
deep breath, held it for several seconds, then blew it out.

“We’d best get a move on,” he said, his voice gruff. “No
telling if they’ll come after us, and I’d just as soon put a few more miles
between us before tomorrow.”

She didn’t argue, merely looked up at him, her deep blue
eyes mirroring the yearnings of his own heart before she turned away and began
gathering up their meager belongings.

They rode all that night, stopping shortly before dawn to
bed down in a clearing ringed by tall trees. Winter Rain was asleep almost as
soon as she closed her eyes, but Chance lay awake a long time, his thoughts
troubled by his growing need for the woman who slept beside him.

He wanted her, he thought, wanted her more than his next
breath, but he had ten thousand good reasons to let her go.

Chapter Eleven

The next morning dawned bright and clear. Breakfast was a
quick meal of jerky and pemmican washed down by a drink of tepid water. Chance
rinsed his mouth, thinking he’d give a dollar and a half for a good cup of
coffee.

Grabbing his saddle blanket, he smoothed it over Smoke’s
back, cinched the saddle in place, slid the rifle into the boot, and then
removed the hobbles from the mare and from Winter Rain’s gelding.

He kept his distance from Winter Rain. After the explosive
kiss they had shared the day before, it seemed like the smart thing to do. From
time to time, he caught her watching him surreptitiously, her expression wary
and a little puzzled.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked.

She nodded.

Chance was wondering if he dared help her mount her horse
when she took the reins from his hand and swung agilely onto the animal’s back.

It was just as well. The thought of putting his hands on her
was far too tempting. He wasn’t a saint and he wasn’t made out of stone, and as
much as he needed that ten grand, he wasn’t sure how many times he could touch
her, kiss her, and still back off.

Smoke snorted and tossed her head as he climbed into the
saddle. Feeling frisky, the mare humped her back and crow-hopped before he
pulled her down to a walk.

Chance glanced over his shoulder to make sure Winter Rain
was behind him. And wished he hadn’t. She rode as confidently as any Lakota
warrior, he thought, but there was nothing remotely masculine about her. Her
hair shone blue-black in the early morning sun; her tunic rode up, revealing a
good deal of tanned skin. She had long shapely legs, legs he could easily
imagine wrapped around his waist.

Smoke bucked again and Chance gave the mare her head, hoping
a good run would shake the image of Winter Rain on her back in his bed from his
mind.

He let the mare run until she slowed of her own accord.
Winter Rain drew up beside him a few moments later. She looked radiant. Her
cheeks were flushed, her eyes sparkled, her hair fell around her shoulders in
wild disarray that somehow made her look more desirable than ever.

Damn, he had it bad!

In an effort to ignore the woman riding beside him, he
concentrated on the wild beauty of the land, the verdant hills, the pair of
red-tail hawks that wheeled and soared effortlessly overhead, the way the grass
undulated like a vast green sea beneath the endless blue vault of the sky. The
land. It was in his blood, as much a part of him as the color of his skin.

At midday, he drew rein alongside a shallow stream. Stepping
from the saddle, he loosened the cinch and let Smoke drink.

From the corner of his eye, Chance watched Winter Rain
dismount and lead her horse down to the stream. When her horse finished
drinking, Winter Rain knelt down and cupped her hands in the water. Never had he
seen anything more beautiful. The sunlight glistened like golden dewdrops in
her hair and caressed her skin. Drops of water trickled through her fingers,
shining in the sun like liquid diamonds.

His gaze followed her as she rose lithely to her feet and moved
behind some bushes for a few minutes’ privacy.

Squatting on his heels, he stared across the stream. Damn,
how had she gotten under his skin so fast? He was a man grown, not some kid
looking to get laid for the first time, yet every time he looked at her, he
felt like some randy youth.

The thought made him grin. Maybe that wasn’t so bad after
all.

He was tightening the cinch on his saddle when Winter Rain
called his name, her voice high with excitement.

Following the sound of her voice, he found her kneeling
beside a wild-eyed filly that was caught in a thicket. In her struggles to free
herself, the filly had gotten badly tangled in the brush. Thorns had raked her
hide, leaving dark brown splotches of blood on her golden coat. His gaze swept
the ground, noting the prints of several wolves. But for the thorn bushes, she
would have been easy prey.

Winter Rain looked up as he approached. “We must help her.”

Chance grunted softly. The filly was lying on her side, too
weak to do more than stare up at them. “There’s a coil of rope in my
saddlebag,” he said. “Get it.”