No Other Man (44 page)

"Get in!" Sloan commanded her. She saw that he'd
found a rifle by the hearth. As he dragged her in, he thrust it toward Sabrina.
"Get shells, load it!"

"I'll shoot you!" Sabrina retorted, but she had the
rifle in her hands, and was digging into a wooden box of ammunition even as
she spoke.

Another shot tore into the cabin. Sabrina screeched, and
shoved the rifle at Sloan. He took it. Skylar looked up, gasping. A half dozen
arrows had made it into the cabin. Smoke was billowing all around them.

It was going to burn.

"We've got to get out," Sloan shouted.

Skylar came to her feet. Sabrina balked. "We'll be shot;
we can't go—"

"Damn it, we've got to get out!" Sloan repeated.
Skylar was stunned when he grabbed her sister furiously by the arm, dragging
her up.

Skylar shrieked, seeing that George had leaped into the
burning cabin. His rifle was aimed at Sloan.

A shot exploded. Sloan didn't go down. George did.

Skylar saw Hawk standing behind him. She let out a glad cry,
starting to race toward him. But even as she did, she saw Dillman directly
behind her husband. He was raising his rifle.

"No!" she shrieked.

Hawk fell and rolled with lightning-quick reflexes. Dill-
man's first shot went off, hitting the wall. He didn't seem to realize that the
cabin was burning, that fiery timber was beginning to fall everywhere. He
started for Skylar, taking aim with his rifle once again.

"Bastard!" she shrieked. He was going to kill her.
It had come to this. She was going to die. But he wasn't going to get away with
it. Hawk would kill him. And at long last, everyone would know the truth about
Brad Dillman.

Despite the gun, she leaped for him. She slammed against him
just as the gun fired. They went down on the ground together.

She felt no pain.

Dillman was screaming.

Skylar, dazed by the fall and the swirl of smoke she
continued to breathe, realized dimly that Brad Dillman's rifle had misfired.
Perhaps it had gotten too hot. Perhaps he'd had faulty cartridges. But the
weapon had failed to discharge properly. She was alive, and he was screeching
in pain. Because there was a knife in his chest. Hawk had thrown it to keep
Dillman from shooting Skylar. And as he had fallen, the knife had been pressed
further and further into his body . . .

Skylar hadn't the sense at that moment to scramble to

her feet. She just stared at Dillman. He was really dying. He
was in great pain.

He
stared at her. "I should have killed you with your old man. Nits make
lice." He started to laugh. He choked on his own blood.

She was
suddenly wrenched up in strong arms. Hawk's arms. He carried her out of the
cabin.

Macy
was dead on the ground where he had fallen. The two aides had been hit by rifle
fire.

Willow,
Ice Raven, and Blade were mounted before the cabin, waiting, watching the fire.

Sabrina
was on her knees, smudged, sooty, trying to breathe. Sloan, in similar
condition, stood by her side. Skylar realized he had pulled her sister from
the flames.

She
realized that somehow they had all known that she and Hawk would come from the
blaze as well.

Just as
they had somehow known that they were needed.

"Thank you," Hawk said simply.

Willow
shrugged. "We wanted to play Indian with you once again."

"But how—"

"Crazy Horse had a vision," Ice Raven told him.

"And
Henry Pierpont told us where they were taking you."

Hawk smiled. "Ah."

Skylar
felt his eyes touch down upon her. "Let's go home," he said. She
nodded. She leaned more closely against him.

"All the monsters are slain!" she agreed softly.

It had probably been the most horrible day of her life.

She had never felt better.

Skylar
convinced Ice Raven and Blade to stay with them just one night; she understood
their need to be free Indians, but she was so grateful to them both, and they
were her relatives through Hawk, and she wanted them to know that she would
always be there for them as well.

At
Mayfair, though she was somewhat bruised and bat- tered herself, her energy
level seemed astounding. She arranged with Meggie, Sandra, and the others to
get all their guests to rooms, prepare baths, find clothing, and arrange a
meal. She and Hawk were both delighted to discover that Meggie had proclaimed
Henry much better than anyone might have imagined; the bullet had traveled
cleanly through him. He was going to have to stay in bed for a few days, but he
was just incredibly proud of himself, and he didn't mind being bedridden
because Sandra was doting on him.

Sandra, in turn, informed them that she found lawyers to be
wonderful men.

They had a fine dinner that evening, Skylar and Hawk, Sloan,
Sabrina, Willow, Ice Raven and Blade. They'd sent for the military, determined
to tell the entire story to the general and see to it that the truth about
Dillman was made public for the world to know. Skylar was especially happy to
feel that at long last justice had been done for her father.

It was very late when Hawk and Skylar were at last free to
retire.

To her room.

Their room. She felt it now, as soon as they entered
together. As soon as he closed the door. As soon as he cupped her face in both
his hands and kissed her lips. Warmly. Fully. Passionately.

They fell upon the bed together. Kissing. Struggling somewhat
in their haste to remove one another's clothes.

"Are you all right? Truly? I know he drew blood today—"
Hawk began.

"I'm not hurt."

"I wouldn't hurt you further—"

"I'm not hurt! I'm alive, I'm well—we've got to build
another cabin."

"I thought you hated the cabin."

"I loved the cabin."

"It burned."

"With my past!" Skylar breathed, finally undoing
the last button of his shirt, meeting his eyes, and pressing her lips against
his chest.

"I'll be happy to build another cabin.
I thought you hated it because I... well, I rather forced you that night—"

She shook her head solemnly. Then smiled with a silver
glitter in her eyes. "I had dreams of you ravishing me there again."

He groaned. "I'll build quickly," he promised. His
lips found hers again.

"How strange. How sad, though. Sloan and Sabrina don't
seem to get on well at all."

"Maybe they just haven't had a chance to get to know one
another," Hawk suggested.

"Maybe. Oh, well... Hawk, we won't let the Sioux take
any blame for what happened today. I mean, truly, there's no way that they can
be involved, right? Ice Raven kept telling me that it wouldn't matter, that it
would put an end to things—"

"There will be no blame upon the Sioux for Dillman's
evil; you needn't worry," Hawk said, triumphant as he tugged her
pantalettes from her. With them both naked at last, he bounded atop her, the
fullness of his flesh rubbing against hers. He sighed with both contentment and
growing ardor.

"Hawk, what will happen?" she asked suddenly, both
her hands in his dark hair.

"Now? I'm going to kiss and lick you all over. You're
going to writhe in ecstasy and ask me to be with you forever."

"No, no—"

"Yes, yes!"

"With the Sioux, I mean."

He sobered, lightly kissing her forehead and her lips.
"I don't know. The future will be painful; that I can see. Will you be
with me, all the way through it?"

"All the way. Forever."

"Even though you entered the West through a Sioux
attack?" "Especially because I entered the West through a Sioux
attack," she assured him softly.

He
hesitated suddenly, strangely. "Even if we have to take a trip away?"

"A trip, away?"

"Even if I'm not—Lord Douglas?"

"What?"
she gasped, leaping away from him, her eyes filled with alarm. "You—you
mean after all this, you're not Andrew Douglas; we're not married—"

He
smiled ruefully, shaking his head, catching her hand and drawing her back
against him. "Come here, wench!"

"Now wait—"

"We are really, truly, absolutely, irrevocably wed."

"Then—"

"Then
truthfully, we may not be Lord and Lady Douglas. In fact, I pray that we are
not."

She stared at him blankly. "Hawk—"

"Skylar,
I had a brother who died in Scotland years ago. Or so we thought. I've recently
had a communication from someone supposedly in his employ."

"Recently?"

"At
Henry's office, the day we went into Gold Town."

"Oh!
And all this time I thought Henry might have found out things about me to tell
you!"

Hawk
had to smile again. He shook his head. "No, my love, you made me discover
all that I know about you the hard way."

She was
frowning. "Hawk, I'd hate for you to hope that your brother was alive if
someone was playing a cruel trick for jest or gain. How can you think—"

"This
fellow had a family heirloom—a ring my brother David always wore—to give me,
and I was asked to meet a man at a particular place on Douglas property. Yes,
this could be a wretched hoax. It most probably is. But Skylar, I loved my
brother. I have to find out."

"We
have to find out."

"I've
already dragged you through Sioux country—"

"I shall gladly be dragged through Scotland." "Even to
give up the title?" he queried lightly.

She
smiled slowly, pressed her lips to his, whispered against them. "I'm
Hawk's
wife. Nothing else means anything."

He
kissed her passionately in turn. Lifted his lips just slightly from hers.
"I never wanted a wife and now ... oh, God, am I grateful to my father!
Skylar, I love you. I cannot remember life without you, and I never want life
without you again."

"Oh, God, that's lovely."

"That's all you have to say?"

She
shook her head. "I love you. Oh, God, I love you. I—I—" She shook her
head again, slightly embarrassed by the emotion overwhelming her. "I adore
you!" she whispered. "Don't you even begin to think about going anywhere
without me in the future—into Sioux country, across the sea, into hell
itself."

He groaned, holding her. "I'll never leave you."

"Perhaps
we can leave Sloan and Sabrina to look after things here."

"Perhaps we can."

"Perhaps ..."

"Perhaps..."

"Oh,
God, who cares right now! Hawk, I love you so much. Whatever lies in the days
ahead, we'll meet together. Tonight, I'm just so grateful... What was that you
were saying before we got sidetracked about the
immediate
future?"

"I
was saying ... never mind. It's much easier to just show you," he
whispered, his green eyes afire with passion, promise, and love.

She felt his touch .. .

Lips,
hands, upon her. Fiercely demanding, hot, tender, caressing, encompassing.

And she knew.

They
would weather all the fires and storms that lay ahead of them with one another,
believing in one another.

Man and wife.

A damned strange marriage, she thought. And a damned fine one .. .

And then... she thought no more. She was far too busy being ravished by a
half-breed and doing her absolute very best to prove her love to him in turn.
Ah . . . did she like the nights!