Heart of the Hunter (7 page)

She walked down the aisle that separated the stalls. Dusty
whickered softly and she paused to rub the gelding’s nose. Glancing at the
stall across the way, she saw that Lee had made a bed of sorts in the stall;
the adjoining stall served as his closet. She saw a few shirts draped over the
partition, an extra pair of boots, a couple pairs of blue jeans, a well-worn
black hat. But what held her eye was the war bonnet hanging from a nail. Made
of black-tipped eagle feathers that trailed to the ground, it was a thing of
rare beauty, tempting her touch.

Giving Dusty a final pat, she crossed the floor and entered
the stall, letting her fingertips glide over one of the feathers. And into her
mind came an image of Blue Crow astride a black and white paint pony. He was
dressed in a clout and moccasins, his face streaked with war paint, a feathered
lance in his right hand. And a war bonnet on his head, a war bonnet that looked
exactly like the one beneath her hand.

A shiver curled up Kelly’s spine. Snatching her hand away,
she left the barn and made her way to the house, anxious to ask Lee about the
war bonnet.

Lee was waiting for her. The front door stood ajar. A stream
of lamplight illuminated the porch.

“Thank you,” Kelly said.

A corner of Lee’s mouth curled up in a wry grin. “No
problem.”

Lifting her head and squaring her shoulders, Kelly met his
unblinking gaze. “I’m sorry if I offended you earlier.”

“Forget it.”

“I didn’t mean anything, honestly. I…sometimes I say things
without thinking. I really am sorry.”

“Why should you be sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But—”

“Listen, Kelly, I’m not a very nice guy. It’s no secret that
I’ve done time and lots of it. Everybody in town knows it.”

He paused and then went on, deciding he might as well tell
her everything and be done with it. “I got busted for stealing, for vandalism,
for burglary.” He shrugged. “You name it, I probably did it.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’ve got a right to know who’s sleeping in your
barn.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“It’s all in the past. Isn’t it?”

He couldn’t meet her eyes. He couldn’t lie to her, he
couldn’t make promises to those innocent blue eyes, promises he had no
intention of keeping.

“Isn’t it?” Kelly gazed at him intently, suddenly aware that
she was shivering and that it had nothing to do with the weather.

“I don’t know, but if I were you, I’d keep my doors and
windows locked.”

Kelly glanced pointedly at the open front door and then at
the piece of wire in his hand. “Would it do me any good?”

“Kelly—”

“I’m trusting you, Lee Roan Horse. I hope you won’t let me
down. Goodnight.”

Only after she’d closed the door did she realize she’d
forgotten to ask him about the war bonnet.

Lee stared at the closed front door, listening to her
footsteps fade as she made her way toward her bedroom in the back of the house.

I’m trusting you…

Lee grunted softly. No one had ever trusted him before. He’d
never realized what a burden it could be. He had to get out of here, he thought
again, before it was too late.

But even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew he
wouldn’t go and he wondered which temptation was more enticing, the age-old
lure of soft feminine curves and sweet pink lips or the equally ancient lust
for gold.

It was a question that kept him awake far into the night.

Chapter Nine

Kelly stared out the kitchen window, her mouth agape. Where
had that horse come from? She was about to go outside to find Lee when she saw
him walking toward the corral, a bridle in one hand. Mercy, he didn’t mean to
ride the beast! It was the biggest, blackest, wildest-looking horse she’d ever
seen. The animal darted toward the far side of the corral when it saw Lee
approaching. Nostrils flared, ears laid flat, the horse watched the man.

Whistling softly, Lee ducked into the corral. For a long
while, he simply stood there, the bridle swinging from his hand. And then,
moving without haste, he crossed the corral, his free hand outstretched.

Kelly held her breath, certain Lee was about to be killed
before her very eyes, but as soon as he got near the horse, the black bolted to
the other side of the corral.

For the next half hour, she watched Lee stalk the horse,
never able to get close enough to slip the bridle over its head.

Wild-eyed and wary, the black pranced around the corral,
tossing its head, blowing loudly, until it had worked itself into a sweat.

Finally, muttering what Kelly assumed was an oath, Lee left
the corral.

She was stirring eggs in a pan when he entered the kitchen.

“Morning,” she said brightly.

“Morning.”

“Where’d the horse come from?”

“I took it in payment for some work I did.” A wry grin
tugged at his lips. “I think I got taken.”

“He’s not broken to ride?”

“He’s barely broken to a halter. I had to lead him here from
the Montgomery place.”

“That’s five miles from here.”

“I know.” He accepted the cup of coffee she handed him and
sipped it appreciatively.

“What kind of horse is it?”

“He’s a mustang and as wild as they come.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask.”

“Where’d you get the war bonnet in the barn?”

“From my grandfather.”

“Do you…do you know who it belonged to?”

“My grandfather’s grandfather, I think. Why?”

“No reason. It looks old. I was just curious.”

* * * * *

It took four days before the stallion would accept the
bridle without a fight and another two days before the horse would stand still
while Lee tightened the cinch. Even then, swinging into the saddle was like
straddling a block of dynamite. And it wasn’t because Lee didn’t know what he
was doing. He was a good rider, the best Kelly had ever seen, but the horse
bucked like it was powered with TNT. Time and again, Lee went sailing through
the air, only to regain his feet and try again.

After a while it was almost painful to watch and Kelly
wondered which stubborn creature would win—the man or the stallion.

It was late one night about two weeks later when something
roused Kelly from sleep.

Rising, she went to the window and peered out-side. A bright
silver moon illuminated the yard. At first she didn’t see anything and then a
bit of movement caught her eye. Leaning forward, she glanced to the left toward
the corrals.

“Oh.” The word whispered past her lips and then she grabbed
her robe and left the house.

Moving silently through the shadows, she made her way to the
corral, stopping out of sight behind a tall pine, her gaze focused on the man
and the horse silhouetted in the moonlight.

She watched Lee walk toward the horse, speaking softly in a
language Kelly did not understand, but assumed was Lakota. Slowly he closed the
distance between himself and the black, a constant stream of words wrapping
magically around the horse.

The stallion stood in the center of the corral, ears
twitching, eyes watching the man’s every move, until the man stood at its head
and very slowly reached out to stroke its neck.

Kelly eased forward, listening to the soft words that seemed
to have woven a fairy spell around the wild stallion.

She pressed a hand to her heart as Lee placed his hands on
either side of the horse’s head and blew softly into the animals nostrils.

And then, to her utter surprise, Lee vaulted onto the
stallion’s bare back. She held her breath, expecting to see the horse start to
buck. Instead, the black craned its head around to look at the man on its back.
Lee gave a gentle squeeze with his thighs and the horse began to walk around
the corral as if it had been doing it every day of its life.

Speechless, Kelly left her hiding place and went to stand
near the corral gate. Man and horse circled the corral, moving together as if
they were one creature.

When they reached the gate, Lee spoke softly to the horse
and the stallion came to a smooth halt. Lee slid off the horse, gave the animal
a pat on the neck and left the corral.

It was only then that Kelly realized it wasn’t Lee at all.
It was Blue Crow.

“How did you do that?” she asked. “Lee’s been trying to
break that stallion for days.”

“Lee Roan Horse is a good man, but he has wandered far from
the true path. He has forgotten how to be one with his four-footed brothers.”

“Oh. The war bonnet Lee has in the barn, it belonged to you,
didn’t it?”

“Han.
How did you know?”

“I saw you wearing it.”

“You saw me?”

“Yes. I don’t know how to explain it, but I touched it the
other day and I saw you riding a paint horse.”

Blue Crow nodded. “At the Greasy Grass.”

“You were at the Little Big Horn?”

“Han.
It was a day to be remembered,
tekihila.
The
Blue Coats fought bravely, but
Wakan
Tanka
was on our side that
day. It was a great victory for my people. I would have liked to share it with
you.”

Kelly took a step backward, suddenly aware that she was
standing outside, clad in a nightgown and robe, alone with a ghost. A very
sensual ghost.

A small smile flickered over Blue Crow’s face. “You feel it,
too.”

“Feel what?”

“The magic between us.”

“No,” Kelly said, shaking her head for emphasis. “I don’t
feel anything.”

“Do not lie to me,
tekihila.”

“What did you call me?”

Blue Crow made a vague gesture of dismissal. “It is not
important.”
My love
, he thought to himself. How easily he had come to
think of her as his. Day and night, he watched her, pleased because she had a
good heart, a good soul.

“I’d better go inside,” Kelly said. She wrapped her arms around
her middle as a cool breeze stirred the air.

Blue Crow took a step forward. Before Kelly could object, he
enfolded her in his arms and drew her close, his embrace gentle, nurturing.

“You shouldn’t… I shouldn’t…” All thought of protest fled
her mind as his warmth infused her. She stared into his eyes, eyes as soft and
dark as black velvet, as deep as a midnight sea. Eyes that glowed with a fierce
desire, a barely suppressed hunger that created a wild fluttering in Kelly’s
stomach and made her heart beat faster.

“Tekihila.”

The sound of his voice enveloped her like a silken web.
Mesmerized by his nearness, by the strength of his arms, she could only stand
there, her gaze trapped in his, waiting, hoping that he would lower his head
and kiss her.

As if he’d read her mind, he did just that.

And there was magic between them, she thought, dazed. His
lips were warm and firm, yielding and demanding. Desire seared through her,
brighter than the tail of a comet, hotter than a thousand suns.

“Tekihila,”
he murmured.
“Skuya, skuya.”

“Skuya?”

“Sweet,” he said. “So sweet.”

“Tekihila?”
It took an effort to form words when he
was standing so close to her, the heat of his deep black eyes glowing like twin
coals, warming her in places that had long been cold.

“My own love.”

His love. It never occurred to her to argue. Standing on
tiptoe, she touched her lips to his. This couldn’t be happening, she mused. He
wasn’t real. Maybe he was only a figment of her imagination. But there was
nothing imaginary about his mouth on hers, or the way her blood hummed in her
veins. There was nothing imaginary about the rapid beat of her pulse, or the
hard male thighs pressed against hers.

She was breathless, mindless when he took his mouth from
hers.

Effortlessly he swung her into his arms and carried her into
the house, moving confidently through the dark hall until he came to her
bedroom. Removing her robe, he put her to bed, drew the covers up to her chin.

She stared up at him, wanting him as she’d never wanted
anything in her life, but instead of crawling into bed beside her, he kissed
her lightly on the forehead.

“Rest well,
tekihila,”
he murmured, and then he was
gone, leaving her alone, and lonely, in the dark.

Chapter Ten

She was still slightly dazed in the morning. Standing at the
stove, she touched her lips again and again, remembering the touch and the
taste of his mouth on hers, the sound of his voice calling her
tekihila.
My
own love.

She might have stood there daydreaming until the bacon
caught fire if Lee hadn’t entered the kitchen, letting the door slam shut
behind him.

“What the devil!” he exclaimed. “You trying to burn the
house down!”

“What? Oh!”

Startled out of her reverie, Kelly jerked the frying pan off
the fire and turned off the gas.

“From the smoke filling the room, I’d say breakfast is
ready,” Lee drawled. Pulling out a chair, he sat down, his brow furrowed in
thought.

Kelly didn’t bother to answer. Instead, she spooned some
bacon and eggs on a plate and plopped it down in front of him. Filling a plate
for herself, she took a seat across from Lee.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“No.”

He studied her face a moment, then sighed. “Okay, okay, I’m
sorry about that crack about the smoke,” Lee muttered.

“What?”

“Where are you this morning?” Lee waved his fork in the air.
“First you practically set the bacon on fire and now you look as if you’re a
million miles from here.”

“I’m fine. I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Anything I can help you with?”

“No.”

He frowned and then shrugged. “Funny thing,” he remarked. “I
threw a saddle on the black before I came up here. For the first time, he
didn’t fight me, so I climbed aboard.”