Apache Flame (23 page)

Alisha looked up at Mitch and smiled. “Maybe.”

“I’ll do my best,” Mitch said.

“Go now,” White Robe said. “Enjoy these days together. Make
good memories.”

Mitch hugged his mother and then, eager to be alone with his
bride, he swung Alisha into his arms and carried her to where two white horses
were waiting.

At last, after five years, she was his.

* * * * *

The wickiup was located in the shadow of a tall pine. The
river ran slow and quiet beside their lodge. Silver bells had been tied to the
branches of the tree; their soft tinkling would serenade them in the night.

Mitch lifted Alisha from the back of her horse, letting her
body slide slowly against his as he put her on her feet.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you are?” he asked.

“No.”

“I’m not sure I can find the words.” He grinned at her. “I’m
a lawman, you know, not a poet.”

She smiled at him. “Try.”

“You’re beautiful, ‘Lisha. More beautiful than any woman
I’ve ever known.” He traced the curve of her cheek with the tip of his finger. “Your
skin is softer than dandelion down, prettier than a fresh peach. I want to
cover you with kisses, feel you lean into me, taste your breath on my face when
I wake in the morning.”

Alisha laughed softly. “Who says you aren’t a poet?”

He laughed with her, unable to believe that she was here,
that she was his. “I love you,” he said quietly. “Always have. Always will.”

“And I love you.”

“Show me,” he said, and swinging her into his arms, he
carried her into the wickiup.

The lodge was fragrant with the scent of sage and sweet
grass. Several soft furry robes had been spread in the rear of the lodge. Wood
was piled in the pit in the center. There were two willow backrests for their
comfort, food and water, soap to bathe with, a change of clothes for each of them.

“It’s nice,” Alisha said, looking around.

Mitch nodded, silently blessing his mother’s kindness.

“‘Lisha?”

She nodded, her dark eyes luminous as she gazed up at him.
She stepped out of her moccasins and then, slowly, she reached for the ties
that fastened her dress at the shoulders, unfastening first one and then the
other. The soft doeskin tunic slid slowly down her body to pool at her feet.

Mitch sucked in a deep breath. She had been lovely as a girl
of sixteen; now, more rounded, more voluptuous, she was a vision. Her skin was
smooth, unblemished. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, haloing her face,
the perfect accent to her creamy skin.

She smiled as she read the admiration in his eyes, felt a
blush rise in her cheeks as his gaze grew hotter. “Thank you,” she murmured,
pleased by the look in his eyes.

His gaze swept over her again. “Thank you,” he replied
wryly.

She cocked her head at him. “One of us is overdressed.”

“What? Oh.” He slipped off his shirt, shucked his leggings
and moccasins, removed his clout.

Alisha grinned as she saw the visible evidence of his
desire.

“It’s your fault I’m in this terrible condition,” he said.
“What are you gonna do about it?”

“What would you like me to do?”

He closed the distance between them and drew her into his
arms, his lips brushing the top of her head. “Have you forgotten everything I
taught you?”

“Well,” she said, nipping his shoulder, “it has been five
years.”

“It will all come back to you.” He ran his fingertips down
her spine, cupped her buttocks and drew her hips against his. “Does that remind
you of anything?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, a little breathlessly. “I’m beginning
to remember.”

He put his finger under her chin and tilted her face up.
“I’ll never let you forget again,” he promised, and captured her lips with his.

He kissed her until she was mindless, breathless, until her
knees went weak and only his arms held her upright. His hands roamed over her
body, trailing fingers of fire. His mouth sweetly assaulted hers, branding her
as his, awakening memories of summer nights near the creek back home, of winter
days spent on a buffalo robe in a dark cave where she had first tasted love.

She moaned and pressed herself against him, wanting to crawl
inside his skin, to feel what he felt, to hold him close within her own body
and never let him go.

With a low groan, he lifted her into his arms and carried
her to the buffalo robes, his mouth never leaving hers as he laid her down,
then covered her body with his own.

She clutched at his shoulders, her hips lifting to receive
him. She tasted his breath on her face, felt his kisses like gentle rain on her
breasts.

It had been five years since she had been with a man, and it
was almost like the first time all over again. The wonder of it, the thrill of
it, the sheer ecstasy, was beyond description, beyond words, and she gave
herself over to his keeping, heart and soul, mind and body. She was his, as she
had always been his.

He murmured that he loved her, adored her, taking her as
tenderly, as gently, as he had that first time so long ago, losing himself in
her warmth, in her sweetness.

The years fell away, all the old hurts healing as their
bodies came together with remembered pleasure.

She arched beneath him, her nails raking his back, as they
moved with ageless rhythm, seeking, searching, for that one moment when time
and memory ceased, when yesterday and today ran together, when two truly became
one.

“Mitchy…my Mitchy…” She moaned with pleasure as his warmth
filled her, his body merging with hers, making her whole, complete…

* * * * *

Like a feather drifting on the wind, she returned slowly to
earth, a smile on her face. It had been worth it, she thought, all the tears
she had shed, all the pain and heartache she had endured in the last five
years, it had all been worth it for this one moment.

She opened her eyes to find Mitch smiling down at her, his
dark eyes warm and tender and filled with such love it brought tears to her
eyes.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, terribly,” she teased. “Please, hurt me again.”

He laughed softly. “I love you, ‘Lisha.”

“Tell me that often, will you?”

“Every day.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “And every
night.”

“And every afternoon?”

“Of course.”

“I love you, my Mitchy. Promise you’ll never leave me again.
Promise me we’ll always be together, as close as we are now.”

“I promise.”

She flung her arms around his neck. “Oh, Mitchy, I missed
you so.”

“I know darlin’. I’m sorry.”

She put her finger over his lips. “No more apologies between
us. Let’s put the past behind us where it belongs.”

Mitch nodded. Lowering his head, he rained kisses over her
cheeks, her neck, her shoulders, her breasts.

She sighed with pleasure, her hands roaming over his back
and thighs, wriggling her hips provocatively, until, with a mock growl, he
buried himself deep within her, his heat engulfing her, arousing her, carrying
her higher, higher, until waves of pleasure broke over her once more, leaving
her weak and drowning in ecstasy…

* * * * *

Later, they bathed in the stream and then, moving upstream
to a deep pool, they swam awhile, and then they stretched out on the grassy
bank to dry.

Alisha sighed as Mitch drew her up against him. Sated and
content, she drew lazy circles over his chest, marveling that he was there,
that she was his woman at last.

Lifting up on one elbow, she ran her gaze over him. He was
perfect, she thought, from his broad shoulders to his feet. His skin was a
dusky brown all over. His arms and legs were well muscled, tempting her touch.
His stomach was hard and flat. And that part of him that made him a man… She
grinned, amused that his desire could be aroused by no more than a glance.

“You laughing at me again?” he drawled.

“No, no, of course not.”

“Well, see that you don’t.” He lifted one brow in wry
amusement. “Are you just gonna sit there and laugh, or are you gonna put me out
of my misery?”

She did laugh, then. She laughed with the pure joy of being
alive, of feeling the sun on her bare skin, of being with Mitchy, her Mitchy…

She was still laughing softly as she covered his body with
hers and put him out of his misery.

Chapter Twenty-Six

They spent the rest of the day near the stream, loving and
napping and loving again.

And now they were lying in each other’s arms.

“Tell me,” she said after awhile. “Tell me what you did
while you were away.”

He shrugged. “Not much. I told you I was a sheriff for
awhile. When I wasn’t wearing a badge, I just drifted.” He looked down at her
and smiled. “Tried not to think about you being married to another man.”

“Did you…” She bit down on her lower lip.

“Did I what?”

“Five years is a long time…”

He lifted one brow. “Yeah?”

“Women, Mitchy. Were there other women?”

“Hundreds,” he said solemnly.

She felt a rush of jealousy, and then realized he was
teasing her again. “How many were there, really?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

She took a deep breath, prepared herself for the worst, and
nodded.

“There weren’t any, ‘Lisha, at least none that meant
anything. I danced with ‘em at socials and at the Fourth of July picnic, but…”
He shook his head. “How could I think about another woman when I was still in
love with you?”

“I’m glad.”

He grunted softly. “What about you?” he asked. “What about
Smithfield?”

“What about him?”

“You were engaged a long time.”

“Nothing ever happened between us.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing much?” She smiled. “Just a few kisses.”

“Now many?”

She laughed softly. “Five,” she said. “One a year.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I never would have married him. I thought I could, but I
know now I was just kidding myself. You spoiled me for any other man, you
know.”

“Keep it that way.”

“Yes, master,” she replied with a saucy grin. “Whatever you
say, master.” She looked at him a moment, still smiling, and then frowned. “You
won’t take another wife, will you?”

“Another wife? What are you talking about?”

“Mr. Clements told me he has two wives!”

“Is that right?”

Alisha nodded. “He has an Apache wife, and a wife in the
east.”

“Well, good for him.”

Alisha punched him on the shoulder. “He said lots of
mountain men have Indian wives. And that lots of Apache men have more than one.
So?”

Mitch lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m only
half Apache, darlin’, and you’re woman enough for me.”

“Well, I’d better be. I just found you again, and I’m not
willing to share you with anyone else, not now, not ever.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to.” He wrapped his arms around
her and hugged her until she thought her ribs might crack.

“You’re all the woman I’ll ever need,” he said fervently.
“And I’ll never let you go again. Never.”

The words, spoken in a low growl, were the sweetest she had
ever heard.

At sunset, Mitch stood up. “Come on,” he said, offering her
his hand, “let’s go for a walk.” He pulled her to her feet, and kissed her.
“Ready?”

Her eyes widened. “Aren’t we going to get dressed first?”

“Why?” he asked. “There’s no one to see you but me. And I
want to see all of you.”

Her gaze swept over him. “The scenery’s not bad from here,
either.”

Hand in hand, they walked along the bank, pausing to watch
the sun as it sank behind the mountains.

“How beautiful,” Alisha murmured.

Mitch nodded. “Beautiful, indeed,” he agreed. But he wasn’t
watching the changing colors of the sky. He was looking at Alisha’s face.

* * * * *

“Do you think we’ll find him?” Alisha asked later that
night. They were sitting outside after supper, gazing up at the stars. It was a
beautiful evening, warm and clear. Millions of stars twinkled against the
indigo night sky; a full moon showered the earth with pale silver light.
Crickets and tree frogs serenaded them; occasionally, the melancholy wail of a
coyote drifted on the breeze.

“We’ll find him,” Mitch said.
A son
, he thought.
I’ve
got a son
. It was hard to believe. Every time he thought of it, of what
Alisha’s father had done, fury rose up inside him, threatening to choke him.
“We’ll find him,” he said again. If the boy was still with the Apache, it
shouldn’t be too difficult. As soon as they returned to the village, he would
ask his mother and Elk Chaser for help.

There was a chance that Clements might be of some
assistance, as well.

Alisha rested her head on Mitch’s shoulder. “Tell me one of
your Apache stories,” she said. “I always loved them.”

“Did I ever tell you about Coyote and the buffalo?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, long ago, in the days before time, there was a
powerful being named Humpback who owned all the buffalo. He kept them in a
corral in the mountains where he lived with his son. Humpback refused to turn
any of his buffalo loose for the People on earth, nor would he share any of
their meat with the People.

“Coyote decided that something should be done to release the
buffalo from Humpback’s corral. He called all the People together. ‘Humpback
will not release any buffalo,’ Coyote said. ‘We must make a plan to release
them.’

“That night they camped in the mountains near the corral and
made a careful inspection of the enclosure that held the buffalo. The stone
walls were too high to climb and the only entrance was through the back door of
Humpback’s house.

“After four days, Coyote summoned the People for another
meeting and asked them for suggestions. ‘There is no way,’ said one man. ‘To
release the buffalo, we must go through Humpback’s house, and he is too
powerful for us to do that.’