Night Hawk'S Bride (Tyler) (Harlequin Historical Series, No 558) (13 page)

She came into his arms as if they'd never parted. Many obstacles stood between them, but he no longer cared. He'd found his heaven, and he was never going to let her go. Their kiss was magic, like winter wind and passion. He drew her hard against him and drank
of her. She opened to him, heated velvet and desire, and he couldn't get enough.

He broke away breathlessly, wanting to love her with every tenderness he knew.

She smiled at him, teasing lighting her up. She dashed off, slipping and sliding on the dazzling ice. “Bet you can't catch me.”

“Beware. Warriors of the Hawk clan are swift of foot.” He took off after her, his winter moccasins gripping the ice. The specially tanned buckskin gave him an advantage over her fancy boots and he outpaced her easily.

“Hey, that's not fair! Your legs are longer.” Laughing, she grabbed his arm and they went down together, spinning freely. He cushioned her fall with his body, pulling her between his thighs as they whirled to a stop.

He pulled her across his chest. How good it felt to be with her! Kissing her tenderly, he held back the pounding drive to love her intimately. To make her his once again.

“I saw you in the stable last night.” He brushed dark locks from her face. “You could have come closer. It must have been cold there in the draft near the door.”

“Papa would have sent me back to the house.” Her chin lifted, pure fight and determination and all woman. “He doesn't believe the young lady he's raised me to be should see the real side of life.”

“Maybe he feared frightening you.”

“It was beautiful. The struggle of birth.” She leaned her cheek against his chest and hugged him
tight. “It made me think about a lot of things. About how fragile life is. How easily lost. And the beauty that can be made from love.”

“I doubt the stallion had love on his mind,
shaylee.
” He kissed her brow, knowing full well what she meant but could not say. The truth was too intimate, and he let himself think of what it would be to make a child with her. To watch her grow round with their baby. What a gift that would be, one they gave to each other.

“I have to get back,” she apologized, holding on to him more tightly. “Papa has a thousand things for us to do for the Winter Ball. I told him I didn't know a fort on the frontier could have a ball. I thought those were reserved for fancy mansions farther east, but he scowled at me. He doesn't always have the best sense of humor.”

“No, but he is a fine man. And he wants to display his beautiful daughter in front of the best in the countryside.” He kissed her once, twice. “I do not blame him.”

“Will you come?”

Her face filled with longing. How could he say no? “You would dance with me in front of everyone?”

“All night long.” She took his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet. She wobbled a little.

He pulled her to his chest. “Are you all right?”

“Just dizzy.” She rubbed her brow. “I guess I twirled too much.”

“Then I should see you home.”

“Whose home? Mine or yours?”

“Which do you want it to be?”

“Yours, Night Hawk.” She didn't know what the future held for them, but one thing was certain. No man could drive her to such heights of joy and to such depths of confusion as this warrior who stood before her.

It didn't matter what happened next, whether he could believe in her love or not. If their love ended with the winter or lasted forever. All that mattered was this moment and this man.

His grip on her elbow held her steady as she stepped onto solid ground.

“You look far too pale,
shaylee.
” His kiss grazed her temple. “I will take you to my bed another time. Now you need to rest alone in yours.”

“I'm fine.”

“You're not.” He lifted her onto Kammeo's back. “Should I ride behind you?”

“Yes.” Not because she was so dizzy, but because she wanted him against her.

Heaven couldn't feel this good, she decided, as he settled behind her. The glory of his hard chest, the luxury of his steely arms, the cradling strength of his thighs thrilled her.

She only felt dizzier as he kissed her hair. Don't think about the future, she told herself. Sunlight glimmered like a thousand diamonds in the meadow and lit up the snow-heavy trees in the forest.

But the brightness felt dark next to the brilliance of love in her heart.

 

“Are you still feeling sickly, Marie?” Henry hesitated in the parlor, dressed in his best black suit. “You
look as pale as a sheet.”

“I'm starting to feel better,” she lied as she slipped into her warmest winter coat.

She'd been fighting on and off a light case of the grippe since final examinations, when all her students were either sniffling or queasy. “I'm not used to these bitter winds, I guess.”

“Then you should try staying out of them and off that half-wild horse of yours,” Henry scolded, but his heart wasn't in it, not tonight. “Is my beautiful escort to tonight's ball ready?”

“Oh, Papa.” She grabbed her fur muff from the coat tree. “Don't try to charm me. It's not going to work.”

“But I think you are beautiful.” He was looking like a proud father again, and she couldn't despise him for it.

“Compliment me all you want,” she warned, not fooled and delighted at the same time. “I'm not dancing with Major Gerard, so stop your scheming.”

“I'm just eager to be a grandpapa, that's all.” He opened the door for her. “You can't blame a man for that.”

“I can.”

The biting wind knifed through her clothes and she was shivering by the time she made it to the bottom step. Ice sheened the path and she was grateful when Henry offered his arm. Her party shoes weren't made for winter walking.

The enormous log building that usually served as the soldiers' dining quarters lit up the night. Boughs
of holly and fir encircled the posts at the front, and candles flickered against the dark snow to light the path to the door.

Inside the hall smelled like hot cider and eggnog, evergreen and cigars, and a handful of soldiers sang carols to accompanying string and brass players, not quite in tune.

“Colonel!” Ned met them with two fresh cups of eggnog. “Marie, why don't you come with me? I'd wager half my month's paycheck that your father is going to push us together anyway.”

“I hate to encourage him, Ned.”

“Go on, Marie. You two kids have some fun.” Henry gave a little wink. “The band's starting a new song just right for dancing.”

Marie earned a warning look from Henry, and she laughed. She let the major lead her away. “You're only making matters worse, Ned. Look at him grinning from ear to ear.”

“He'll figure it out soon enough.” Ned led her to a table where his jacket hung over the back of one chair, and pulled out a second chair for her. “I tried to argue with him, but he issued an order. I have to look after you tonight.”

“But you're not on duty.”

“You know the colonel.” Ned didn't seem upset about it as he helped her settle into her chair. “I decided not to argue because I could use some help.”

“With what? Name it.”

“With her.” Ned gestured subtly to the left through the crowd.

Marie saw a young woman seated with the Meyers
family. One of her students, little Gretta Meyers was talking earnestly to the pretty blond stranger. “I don't know who she is, but I bet you do.”

A rogue's smile changed Ned's good looks to something breathtaking. “Her name is Claudia Heintzelman, and she's Claus Meyers's sister.”

“Married sister?”

“Widowed sister come to live with him.” Ned nodded once, as if he were sure, gazing at the fragile woman, that he'd found his heart. “I can't go up there and introduce myself. She'll reject me.”

Realization dawned. “You want me to talk her into dancing with you.”

“It's a start.” Longing showed on his face.

Marie knew what that felt like. “Fine. Come with me and I'll see what I can do.”

“I'd owe you my future happiness.” He stood, holding out his arm.

 

Night Hawk felt many curious gazes as he entered the hall. The melody and harmony of the music warred with the sharp din of conversations. Everyone had turned out in their best, from uniformed officers to modestly dressed farmers and their wives.

He was late. His gaze found her immediately amid the sea of people. She wore a shimmering red gown that sparkled almost as much as she did. Laughter touched her face as she whirled in the arms of an army officer he didn't know. Jewels glimmered at the base of her slender throat, but her beauty shone more precious than those rare gems. Her beauty came from within and nothing he'd seen in his life could compare.

He was at her side before he realized it, taking her hand from the young sergeant's and pulling her into his arms. She came to him like spring on the wind, quietly, radiantly, and snuggled against him.

They moved together to the white man's music, a rise and fall of slow concordant notes. Not the joyful rhythm of his people's music, but this had its advantages. Holding Marie so tightly in public, smelling the wildflowers in her hair and feeling her breasts against his chest made him proud.

He wanted to shout the truth of their love loud enough for the entire world to know, for it to ring in the air and the wind and across the hills. But she clung to him tightly as if to say,
Never let go.

He wouldn't. Life came with few certainties, and he'd come here tonight to let her know. Time was slipping away each day. Time that belonged to them.

N
ight Hawk woke to the new day long before dawn came. The memory of holding Marie in his arms lingered. How proud he'd been dancing with her last night. Others had cut in wanting to hold her, and he'd always taken her back. She was his heart, and he would fight for her always.

As Night Hawk forked hay into the rows of stalls, he missed his father more than ever. He needed his advice and guidance. How do I prepare for a wife, he would ask his father if he were here.

Build her a lodge. He could almost hear the answer on the wind. Build her a lodge in the way of our people.

Maybe it would be a fine log house, the best he could make, but it would be in the old tradition. Meant not to show wealth but to provide a home for his wife and later his children. A place for happiness and love.

Yes, that is where he would start. Determined, he grabbed his best ax and headed into the forest.

 

Marie woke late feeling exhausted. She'd danced into the early hours of morning in Night Hawk's arms,
and part of her was still soaring. The other part of her couldn't get out of bed.

The floor creaked in the hallway. She heard Henry's heavy gait on the stairs.

Henry wasn't one to tolerate sleeping in. Marie dragged herself out of bed and grabbed her housecoat. Getting dressed felt like too much effort. Maybe she'd feel better after a cup of coffee and toast.

The floor tilted under her feet, and she held the banister tight all the way down the stairs.

“Marie, you look pale. I know you arrived home terribly late last night.” Henry sounded disapproving. “I ought to speak to Ned, but I'm sure you two had a good time—”

“Papa, I don't want to talk about Ned.” Her stomach clamped hard. She wasn't feeling well. Not at all. She raced through the kitchen and out the door.

 

“Marie? Are you all right?” The privy door rattled as Henry pounded on it.

What was Henry doing? Standing there listening to her wretch? Head pounding, she leaned her forehead against her crossed arms in misery. “Go back inside. It's cold out here. You'll freeze to death waiting for me.”

“I'm going to make Ned pay for letting my daughter stay out so late. You've caught the grippe that's going around, haven't you?” Papa sounded furious. “Let me in, Marie.”

“I locked the door. That means I don't want you here.”

“You've been in there for half an hour.” Anger boomed as he banged on the wood panels, and the entire structure shook.

Another wave of nausea ripped through her abdomen. Her body shook uncontrollably.

She vomited again and then endured the dry heaves racking her body over and over. Finally, weak and exhausted, she collapsed against the wall.

“I'm getting the doctor, Marie.” He sounded in anguish now.

“I'm coming out.” Somehow, she made her legs obey her. She unlatched the door and tumbled into her father's strong arms.

“There now,” he said awkwardly, doing his best. “We'll get you lying down. You'll feel better soon.”

If only the ground would stop moving. She managed to stumble into the house. She had to grab the banister while her father held her steady. She'd never been so grateful to see her bed. She lay down on the cool sheets and the room stopped spinning.

“There, now. I'll have Mrs. Olstad send for the doctor.” Henry drew a chair to her bedside. “Maybe I'll let Ned know you're ill. He could bring you a gift, a token of his affection.”

Marie couldn't believe it. “Ned's not going to marry me.”

“Why the hell not? Isn't my daughter fine enough for him?”

If she wasn't feeling ill, she would have laughed. “He's in love with someone else, I think. Or he's going to be.”

“Why did you have to frighten him off, Marie?”
Henry pulled the covers to her chin. “I really liked Ned. I wanted him to be the one.”

“There will be one. I promise.”

“I'll hold you to that.”

A warm feeling filled her, a sweet feeling of being protected. It was a feeling she'd never known before.

Tears of gratitude burned in her eyes.

 

Night Hawk heard the clink of a heavily shod horse against the icy ground. He reined the team of workhorses toward the house, checking to make sure the chains held. The heavy logs they dragged gouged great tracks in the new snow. Meka dashed out of the forest, barking, and sat politely when ordered.

“It's not Marie,” he told the dog, who appeared disappointed. “It's her father.”

Henry broke through the woods mounted on his powerful gelding. Today he wore heavy layers of wool and waved a gloved hand at the debarked logs piled high near the side of the small cabin. “Looks like you're building on.”

“Thought I might think of marrying someday. A wife might appreciate more than a three-room house.”

“Good thinking.” Henry nodded in approval. “That's why I insist on roomy houses for my married officers. Not that everyone accepts my philosophy, but if you keep the wife feeling content with her surroundings, then there's little reason for discord.”

Night Hawk felt a wave of sadness for the colonel. For all his career success, he had very little personal happiness. “Keeping a wife happy is important.”

“You're sensible, Night Hawk. But take my Marie
for instance. She's used to genteel living. After her mother died, she lived with her aunt, who was a real lady. Marie is used to a comfortable life, and what does she want? Instead of wanting a husband who can better her life, she spends half her time riding that horse you sold her.”

“She's young, Henry. There's nothing wrong with riding a horse.”

“Astride! I'm lucky no one has complained about it.” Troubled, as if it mattered how Marie's reputation would reflect on him, Henry scowled.

Night Hawk wasn't fooled. He sensed Henry's great love for his daughter, one he hid carefully behind bluster and formality. What good was a love that never saw the light of day? “Let her have her fun, Henry. She will settle down soon enough.”

“She danced with Ned half the night at the ball, so there's hope. And you for the other half. I'm indebted to you again. You kept groping soldiers from taking a spin with her.”

“Groping?” Night Hawk strangled on the irony.
He'd
been the one doing everything he could to keep his hands from roaming over Marie's delectable curves. Curves he knew well by memory.

“I remember what it's like to be a young man. I run a good fort and my soldiers are disciplined, but the toughest self-control can be destroyed by a pretty woman's smile.”

“You're worried because you want a better life for Marie.”

“That's right. A father's burden. When you finish
your house and find a woman, you'll know what I mean soon enough.”

The truth was urgent on his tongue, and Night Hawk almost told Henry. Almost asked for his daughter's hand right there on this humble land with only the most modest life to offer Marie.

He held back. There was too much at stake.

Henry leaned against the top rail of the corral measuring the unbroken filly trotting around the ring. “I wanted to thank you for helping save the mare the night of my supper party. I'm impressed with your horse skill.”

“My father taught me what he knew. Horses are an important part of my people's culture.”

“Captain Hooper has been reprimanded and demoted, as you know. Captain McGee is young and doesn't know enough about training yet.” Henry tossed him a sidelong glance. “What we need is new stock. Well-trained animals instead of the cheap green horses Hooper insisted he could break. Are you interested?”

“To train horses for the fort?”

“I would pay good money.”

“Many of these horses come from my people's herds.” It seemed wrong, yet a part of him knew that he wanted to make a living one day solely off his herd. “It wouldn't be right to sell them to the army.”

“I see seven Arabian mares in that corral right there. How many do you have in the stables? Six dozen is my guess. Those are saddle horses to any man, army or Sauk. And money is money, Night Hawk. Good cash.”

“I'll consider it.”

“Fine.” Pleased, Henry offered his hand and they shook. “I have to head back. Marie's down with a bad case of the grippe, so I don't want to stay away too long.”

“Marie is ill?” Alarmed, he tried not to show it.

“Oh, she'll be right as rain in a few days, no doubt. She has to be. The winter term starts soon.” Henry snatched the gelding's reins and mounted, settling heavily into the saddle. “Give my offer some thought.”

All Night Hawk could think about was Marie. He waved goodbye to the colonel and seethed inside with a hard, biting frustration. He loved the woman. He wanted her in his bed so he could take care of her. How long would it be before he had that right?

 

Marie's head pounded as she lay flat on the bed. The smallest movement made her stomach twist with violent nausea.

“You're not feverish.” Mrs. Olstad set the cup of honeyed tea on the nightstand. “I still want you to drink every drop.”

Marie's stomach somersaulted and she moaned.

“I'll leave the basin right here on the floor if you need to be sick.” Mrs. Olstad left the room.

She'd never been this wretchedly sick. The steam from the fragrant tea wafted her way, and her stomach clenched.
Just don't move. Go to sleep. This has to get better.

A sound startled her. The room wasn't spinning yet, but she didn't dare move too quickly. She inched her
heavy head on the pillow so that she could see the rest of the room.

A shadow fell across her window. Before her tired eyes could focus, the shadow disappeared. Was someone at her window?

She levered herself up on one elbow. Her stomach complained and her head pounded, the dizziness and nausea were overwhelming as she inched toward the sparkling panes of glass. Something was on her sill. A tiny bird?

She crept the few feet to the window, but the small creature didn't move. No, it wasn't a bird. It was a carving. She eked open the window just far enough. Her fingers closed around cool, textured wood. Trembling, she studied the object she held in her hand. An exquisitely carved hawk the size of a hummingbird.

 

Every day that she was sick in bed for the next three weeks, Night Hawk left a carving on her windowsill. All were creatures of the forest and each was small, intricate and stunning. The polished wood gleamed with beauty and the handmade detail astounded her.

It was those carvings she thought of now as her stomach threatened rebellion in the middle of the doctor's examination.

“A case of the grippe shouldn't last this long,” he said quietly as he rolled down his sleeves. “Maybe it's best if I ask you a few questions. Just in case we've got something else to deal with.”

“I've never been sick like this before.” Marie struggled to sit up, but her stomach turned. She leaned into her pillows and closed her eyes.

“Does it come and go? Or are you constantly nauseous?” His question was kind.

“It used to be constant, but the last week it comes and goes.” She hated lying here. She'd missed the first week of the winter term, and without her the children had no teacher. “Is there something I can take to calm my stomach? I'm getting better, if I can just get past this nausea.”

“I'll see what I can do. I have one more question.” He cleared his throat, lowering his voice. The door was open, and Henry was out in the hallway. “How many monthlies have you missed?”

Marie blushed. Aunt Gertrude had told her it was something a married woman paid close attention to, so she knew when she was pregnant—

I can't be.
Marie covered her face with her hands. Wouldn't she have known? How many had she missed? She'd been so upset arguing with Henry and Night Hawk she hadn't paid attention.

“How many, Marie?” the doctor insisted.

“At least two, maybe three. I'm not always regular.” Ice-cold fear crept through every inch of her.
It's the grippe. It has to be. Now isn't the best time—

“You're pregnant, Marie.” The doctor stood and pulled the bedside chair back to its place at her desk, careful not to look at her. “Should I tell your father?”

“Papa?
No!
I'll tell him. I want to be the one to tell him.” Marie gripped the edges of the comforter, holding on for dear life. Her head was spinning, her stomach twisting and she couldn't feel anything at all. It seemed as if she were as frozen as the icicles outside her window.

“Fine.” The doctor shook his head as if in pity, grabbed his bag and hesitated at the door. “Try sipping a little ginger water. I'm told raspberry tea helps, too. And nibble on some dry bread. It will help with the nausea.”

The pity on his face remained, and then he left her alone.

Henry was in the hall. Marie's heart stopped pounding. The doctor would keep his word, wouldn't he? She heard low voices, but she couldn't tell what the men were discussing.

A baby. Could it be true? It seemed unbelievable. Except for the sickness, she didn't feel any different. But she would soon, wouldn't she? The thought of Night Hawk's child growing within her filled her with a strange shivery excitement, one that was both fear
and
joy.

She remembered how Night Hawk had gazed at her with unquestionable love in his eyes the last time they'd made love. Sweetness shifted through her and she hugged herself tight. She was carrying Night Hawk's child!

A rapping sound startled her. She realized Henry was standing in the threshold gazing at her oddly. He no longer looked concerned over her health. He looked weary. More tired than she'd ever seen him. Deep lines gouged his face, drawing his mouth into a sad frown. His eyes drooped, lifeless and cold.