Love Forevermore (24 page)

Chapter Twenty-Four

With a sigh, Shad Zuniga stepped from the saddle. Never in all his thirty-four years had he been so utterly weary or discouraged. The Army had pursued him relentlessly, never giving up, never slowing down.

Now, with darkness settling over the land, he bedded down in a dry wash, the dun tethered nearby. He grinned wryly. Soon after his escape from the road gang, he had made his way back to the fort, hoping to see Loralee. He had waited impatiently, counting the minutes until sundown, then made his way to Schofield’s house, hoping to find Loralee alone. But his luck had been bad that night. Schofield had been at home, relaxing in an easy chair before the fire, his feet propped up on an ottoman.

Peering through the window, Shad had seen Loralee sitting on the sofa, leafing through a ladies magazine. So close, he thought. She was so close. He had stayed at the window a long time, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. Once, she had laid the magazine aside and placed her hand on her distended abdomen, a smile lighting her face as the baby moved beneath her fingertips. It had been all Shad could do not to burst into the room and sweep her into his arms. Soon, he had promised himself. Soon.

Zuniga had waited until the lights went out inside the house before he moved out of the shadows and padded noiselessly toward the horse corral. The horse he had been riding had gone lame the day before and he had been on foot since then. It had been his intent to steal a horse from the Army, preferably Schofield’s big bay gelding. To his delight, he had found the dun penned in a small enclosure. Shad had grinned into the darkness. No doubt Schofield had brought the dun to the fort along with Loralee’s mare when they returned from Bisbee. One day he would have to thank Schofield for returning his horse, he had thought wryly.

It had been no easy task, stealing the dun from the corral, but it had been worth the effort. There wasn’t a horse in the territory that could match the stallion for speed or endurance.

Now, lying on the ground in the dry wash, Zuniga thought of Loralee, always Loralee. She was ever in his thoughts and her image came quickly to mind: hair like soft gold, eyes as warm and brown as Mother Earth, lips as soft and pink as the petals of a wild rose, skin like soft satin.

Thinking of her stirred his desire and he groaned low in his throat, hungry for the sight of her. He had been long without a woman, he mused, far too long, but he knew that no other woman would ever satisfy him again.

Loralee. He cursed softly. It had been weeks since he had seen her last, and he didn’t know when he would see her again.

Thinking of Loralee brought his child to mind. The baby would have been born by now, he mused, and wondered if he had a son or a daughter. The sex of the child was no longer important, so long as mother and infant were both well and strong.

His stomach growled loudly, reminding him that he had not eaten for two days. Muttering a mild oath, he gazed up at the stars wheeling against the midnight sky, willing his hunger to go away.

For the next three weeks, he stayed one jump ahead of the soldiers pursuing him. He ate whatever he could catch or steal, slept wherever he could find shelter. He grew thin and haggard, but still he ran. Better to live as a hunted man than to die at the end of a white man’s rope, or spend the rest of his life rotting in prison.

In late August it rained for three days. Huge drops of water pelted the earth, pummeling man and beast like angry fists. Thunder rumbled through the heavens; great jagged bolts of lightning rent the sky. Zuniga murmured a quiet prayer of thanks to
Usen
as he made his way to the fort under cover of darkness. The rain would wash out his tracks. With luck, the Army would not find his trail again.

Tethering the stallion out of sight behind the fort, he padded across the muddy parade ground toward Schofield’s house. A light burned in the front window. Peering inside, he saw Loralee curled up in the corner of a high-backed sofa, the infant nursing at her breast.

Zuniga stared at Loralee in wonder. She wore a white nightgown and fluffy white robe. Her hair fell around her face and shoulders like a soft golden cloud. She had never looked more beautiful.

With an effort, he drew his gaze from Loralee and glanced around the room. Where was Schofield? In another room? On duty? On patrol?

Muttering an oath, he rapped on the window.

Loralee glanced up, a frown furrowing her brow. She experienced a moment of alarm when she saw a face peering in the window, then felt her heart leap for joy as she recognized Zuniga.

Rising quickly, the baby clutched to her breast, she ran to the front door and flung it open. “Shad!”

He stepped inside, shut and locked the door. “Where’s Schofield?”

“Out looking for you.”

“When will he be back?”

“Not before tomorrow.”

Zuniga grinned broadly, pleased to think of his enemy slogging around in the mud, following a cold trail. “Close the curtains and turn down the lamp.”

“Get out of those wet things,” Loralee admonished as she drew the curtains. “You’ll catch your death.” She turned down the lamp, then watched unabashed as Zuniga shed his rain-soaked shirt, pants, and moccasins. She felt a thrill of excitement as he drew her into his arms.

“I’ve missed you,” Loralee murmured.

Zuniga nodded as he bent to claim her lips. They kissed until the baby began to whimper.

“You interrupted his dinner,” Loralee remarked, laughing softly. “Why don’t you go put on a pair of Mike’s trousers while I feed your son?”

Zuniga nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat.
A son
, he thought exultantly.
I have a son!

A few moments later, seated in a chair across from Loralee, he watched while she nursed the baby.

“I named him Shad,” Loralee said. “Do you mind?”

Zuniga shrugged. “It is a hard luck name, but maybe he will change it.”

When the child finished nursing, Loralee laid him in Shad’s arms. She felt her heart melt as Zuniga carefully inspected the boy from head to foot, his eyes alight with wonder.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Loralee asked, stroking her son’s downy black head.

“Beautiful,” Zuniga murmured huskily.

He held the child until it fell asleep, marveling at the infant’s tiny fingers and toes, at the perfectly formed features, at the changing expressions that played across the child’s face as it slept.

Loralee could not take her eyes off Zuniga. The love she saw reflected in his expression as he gazed at their son was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Unbidden came the memory of what Shad had told her about his father. Had Nakai once looked at Zuniga with that expression of love that bordered on adoration? Had he once carefully examined his son’s hands and feet, gently stroked a black-thatched head, murmured tender words of endearment?

She felt her heart swell with tenderness as Zuniga bent to place a kiss on his son’s cheek. How did such love turn to violence? What had caused Nakai’s cruelty? Had he always been a mean-tempered, violent man? If so, how had Nadina fallen in love with him?

Zuniga raised his head and looked at Loralee. There was a bemused expression on her face, confusion in her eyes.

“What is it?” he asked, speaking softly so as not to disturb his son. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing. I was just wondering…nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“I was just thinking about your father.”

“Nakai? Why?”

“Was he always mean to you?”

Zuniga stared past Loralee, his hand absently stroking the baby’s hair. “No, not always. When I was very young, maybe five or six, I thought he was the most wonderful man in the world. He used to take me hunting in the mountains with him. He was a fine shot with a bow and arrow, and I wanted to be just like him. But then he changed. He began to accuse my mother of being unfaithful to him.”

“Was she?”

“No! She never loved anyone else, but my father did not believe her. He started drinking heavily, and he never stopped. I was older then, and I was ashamed of him. In my heart, I made Nachi my father. He was always there for me, always ready to listen. I could tell him anything without fear of being ridiculed or punished. It was Nachi who taught me to be a warrior, Nachi who was there to comfort me when my mother died in my arms. His heart was broken, too, but he put his grief aside to comfort me.”

“He must have been a great man,” Loralee mused softly. “I wish I could have known him better.”

For a few moments, they were silent. Then Loralee stood up and Zuniga followed her into the nursery. Reluctantly he placed the child in its bed. For a moment Zuniga and Loralee stood side by side, gazing lovingly at the sleeping infant; then, with a low moan, Zuniga took Loralee in his arms. They clung together for a long time, content to be quietly close.

“You look thin,” Loralee remarked sometime later. “Can I fix you something to eat?”

“I would like that.”

“You look like you could use a hot bath, too.”

Zuniga grinned wryly. He smelled worse than his horse.

The next hour was a busy one. Loralee draped Zuniga’s clothes over a chair in front of the fire to dry out, prepared him something to eat while he took a long bath. She fixed enough for two, then said she wasn’t really hungry and insisted that he eat it all so it wouldn’t go to waste. He didn’t argue, but wolfed down both portions. Belatedly she wished she had made more. He looked so thin, so tired. It tore at her heart to know that he had been living in the hills like a wild thing while she lived in a comfortable house, wanting for nothing except his presence.

She smiled at him as he pushed his plate away and sipped a cup of coffee. “I can be ready to leave in twenty minutes,” she said lightly. “Less than that, if you’re in a hurry.”

“No.”

Her smile stayed in place, but lost its glow. “You’re not in a hurry?”

“Loralee…damn.”

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” she asked anxiously. “To take us away with you?”

“I cannot, Loralee. Not now. I have got nothing to offer you. No home, no future, nothing.”

“But you promised.”

“Loralee, I am a wanted man.”

“I don’t care.”

“I care. I cannot drag a woman and a baby around in the hills. I have not been able to stay in one place for more than a few hours at a time. There are nights when I have nothing to eat. I sleep on the ground.”

“I don’t care. Please take us with you,” she begged, but she was frightened by the way of life he was describing to her. For herself it wouldn’t matter, but she had the baby to think of now. Still, even knowing he was right, she couldn’t bear to be parted from him again.

“Loralee, do not make this any harder than it is. I cannot run forever. Sooner or later the Army will catch up with me. I do not want you to be there when it happens. I will come back and see you when I can.”

She nodded, tears filling her eyes as she gazed up at him, silently pleading with him to make things right, to figure out a way for them to be together. Always she had known he would come back for her, that they would have a life together somewhere, somehow. It was all she’d had to cling to, the only thing that had made life worthwhile when missing him grew unbearable.

Her tears tore at Zuniga’s heart. Murmuring her name, he walked around the table and took her in his arms, one hand lovingly stroking her hair.

“I’d take you with me if I could,” he said quietly. “You know that, don’t you?”

“I know.”

“I want to make love to you,” he whispered. His words, soft and low, were the words she longed to hear. Taking him by the hand, she led him into the bedroom. Then, slowly, she removed her robe and gown.

Zuniga sucked in a deep breath as she stood naked before his eyes. Her body was more rounded, the curves lush and womanly. Her breasts were fuller, heavy with milk, her stomach was almost flat again. Slowly she held out her arms, beckoning him.

“Is it all right?” he asked huskily. Not for anything would he hurt her.

Nodding, she drew him close, lifting her head for his kiss. Heat shot through her veins as their mouths came together and they sank to the bed.

Zuniga shed Schofield’s clothes, and then he lowered himself over Loralee, his mouth kissing her nose and eyes, the curve of her throat, the delicate lobe of her ear.

They had been too long apart and they came together in a rush, eager to possess and be possessed, eager to be one flesh, if only for a little while.

Loralee savored each moment, each caress. Soon, too soon, he would be gone again and she would be alone. She could not bear the thought, and she cried his name, tears welling in her eyes as he brought her the fulfillment she sought.

Moments later, Zuniga shuddered to a halt, his breath warm on her neck, his weight a welcome burden. When he would have rolled away, she held him tight, not wanting him to move, wanting to be a part of him for a little longer. Zuniga shifted his weight to the side a little so that she was not supporting his whole body, and that was how they fell asleep.

Dawn was streaking the horizon with brilliant slashes of gold and vermillion when Loralee awoke. For a moment she lay still, smiling faintly as she remembered the night past. It had not been a dream this time, she mused happily. She placed her hand on the pillow Shad had slept on. It was cold to her touch, and she sat up, heart pounding with despair. Surely he had not left!