Reckless Desire (20 page)

Placing Vickie on the bed, Hawk closed the curtains, then stood there, just looking at her.

“Are you going to stand there gawking all day?” Victoria asked coyly. “The twins won’t sleep forever.”

Hawk laughed softly as he stretched out beside Vickie, his mouth claiming hers once more. What a charming little witch she was, wanton and yet shy, teasing one minute and surrendering the next.

Victoria returned Hawk’s kiss, her mouth parting as his tongue slid across her lower lip. She loved his kisses, loved the way they made her feel, all warm and mushy inside, as if all her bones had turned to water. Loving him, touching him, it was all so wonderful that she sometimes felt guilty for being so happy. Her mother had warned her that the intimate side of marriage was something a woman had to endure for the sake of having children and to please her husband, or else he would visit prostitutes to satisfy his coarse needs and desires, but Vickie never “endured” Hawk’s touch. Rather, she gloried in it, thrilling to his caresses, basking in the warmth of his love.

She sighed as he began to undress her, his hands moving slowly as they slid her dress over her shoulders. Bending, he kissed her neck, her shoulders and arms, his kisses butterfly light as they continued to fall over each newly exposed area of flesh. She shuddered with delight as his tongue flicked over her bare belly and breasts, and she began to unfasten his clothing, wanting to see him, to touch him as he was touching her.

“Vickie,” he groaned. “You are so beautiful.”

“You are—” she whispered, and choked back a sob when she saw the ugly bruises on his torso.

“What is it?” Hawk asked, frowning.

“You’re hurt.”

“It is nothing,” he assured her.

“Hawk, I’m so sorry for this morning. I didn’t mean those awful things I said. Please forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Hawk said, kissing her cheek. “I was wrong, and I deserved just what I got.” His arms drew her close. “I did not mean to frighten you. I swear it will never happen again.”

She nodded, too close to tears to speak. He kissed her then, a fiercely passionate kiss that told her better than words how much he loved her. Their bodies strained together, flesh caressing flesh, until they became one and there was no more need for words…

Hawk was different in the days that followed. He was more relaxed, more at ease. Victoria had not realized before just how tense Hawk had been most of the time until the tension was gone. He smiled more readily now, and spent more time playing with his sons. They went into town more often, sometimes for no other reason than to have a soda at the drug store.

Victoria was stunned when Hawk suggested that they invite a few friends over for dinner, and even surprised when he casually remarked that he thought he might go to church with her the following Sunday.

Hawk could be quite charming when he put his mind to it, and many of the young women in town began to understand why Victoria had married him. He was tall, dark, handsome, with a roguish smile that could melt a heart of stone.

Vickie was baking bread one afternoon when Hawk entered the kitchen whistling cheerfully. Turning, she let her mouth drop open in surprise, for there stood her husband in a new light blue shirt, black twill pants, and a black leather vest. The blue in his shirt perfectly complemented his dark eyes and hair, and she thought he was quite the most beautiful creature she had ever seen.

Hawk flushed a little under her openly admiring gaze. “What do you think?”

“You look wonderful.” Vickie smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling merrily. “I see you kept your moccasins.”

“Boots,” Hawk said with a grimace. “I could never stand to wear them.”

Vickie nodded. “But what’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” Hawk replied with a shrug. “I just got tired of wearing buckskins all the time.”

“I like your buckskins,” Victoria said honestly. “But this is a nice change.”

“I bought something for you, too,” Hawk said, reaching into his shirt pocket. “I hope you like it.”

With eager hands, Vickie unwrapped the small, square package he offered her. Inside she found a lovely cameo on a delicate silver chain.

“It’s lovely,” she murmured. “Thank you, Hawk. Will you fasten the chain for me?”

His hands lightly caressed her neck as he fastened the chain. Bending, he kissed the top of her head, his hands squeezing her shoulders. “
Ne-mehotatse
, Vickie,” he said quietly. “I love you. Forever.”

“Forever,” she repeated softly.

At church on Sunday, Victoria wondered if having Hawk there was such a good idea. Every unattached female in the building stared at Hawk. Of course, he was incredibly handsome, so she supposed she could not blame them for staring. But afterward, they all came by, ostensibly to say hello to Vickie and to admire the twins, but Vickie knew it was just an excuse to be near Hawk. Muriel Perkins was almost drooling, and Faye McKendrick just oozed with charm as she complimented Vickie on her dress, though her eyes never left Hawk’s face.

Victoria was fuming as Hawk helped her into their carriage and then handed her the twins.

“Why are you scowling like that?” he asked, frowning.

“You know why,” Victoria retorted.

“If I knew, I would not ask,” Hawk said, his tone reasonable.

“It’s you!” Vickie said, exasperated. “You’re just too darned good-looking in that suit.” She stamped her foot petulantly. “All those women drooling over you like they’ve never seen a man before. It was disgusting.”

“Oh,” Hawk said gravely. “It could not be that you are a tiny bit jealous?”

“Jealous? Me? Of course not.”

“Good, because you have nothing to be jealous of.”

“Don’t I?”

“Vickie, you know there is no one else for me. Only you.”

“I know,” Victoria said, smiling sheepishly. “I’m sorry.” It wasn’t his fault he was so handsome, or that he looked so wonderful in a suit of dark gray broadcloth.

“I know how you can make it up to me,” Hawk mused, flashing a roguish grin.

“Do you?” Vickie asked saucily.

“Yes, ma’am. And I will show you, just as soon as the twins go down for a nap.”

And he did.

Chapter Twenty-Three

We all noticed the change in Hawk, and I saw that it wrought a change in Victoria as well. She smiled more often, and the worry that had often lurked in the depths of her clear azure eyes vanished as though it had never been. Women who had once gone out of their way to avoid my son began to find him charming, and men who had once looked at him suspiciously began to feel he could be trusted after all. Hawk, it seemed, could be quite captivating and friendly when it suited him.

“Are you sure you’ve told me everything that happened between Hawk and Castrell?” I asked Shadow. “Are you certain you didn’t leave anything out?”

“I have told you everything,” Shadow assured me.

“Then what caused the sudden change in our son?”

“I think that when he was on the brink of killing Castrell, our son came face to face with himself and he would not like what he saw.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You cannot be a whole man when your heart is filled with hate. It eats away at you, and soon you hate yourself as well as everyone else. I think that for the first time in his life he accepted the fact that he is part white as well as Cheyenne, and that being half white does not make him less of a man, or less of a warrior.”

“What are you going to do about Frank Smythe?”

Shadow shrugged. “I sent him a letter. I told him I knew what he had done, and that it would be wise for him to stay in Chicago. I told him that whatever was wrong with his marriage had nothing to do with Cloud Walker.”

“Do you think Frank will heed your advice?”

Shadow smiled. “If he is wise, he will stay in Chicago. Personally, I hope he comes back to Bear Valley.”

“Shadow, you wouldn’t—”

“Kill him? No. I would just rough him up a little.”

“Shadow!”

“I am only making a joke,” he said. But I was not so sure.

All was peaceful in our home once more. Cloud Walker recovered rapidly, due in part to Mary’s devoted attention. She was at his side every minute she could spare, talking to him, reading to him, bringing him gourmet meals to tempt his appetite, as well as the sweet treats he loved. She brought Katherine in to visit him often, and the two became good friends. Cloud Walker soon became Katherine’s favorite person besides her mother, and she laughed and smiled for him more than for anyone else.

When Cloud Walker felt like getting out of bed, Mary was there for him to lean on. They took many short walks outside, for Cloud Walker could not long abide being cooped up. Bundled in warm coats, wool scarves, gloves, and hats, they strolled in the yard, oblivious to the cold and the snow, lost in the warmth of the love growing between them.

Mary fretted over what to give Cloud Walker for a Christmas present, and I remarked that he could use a new pair of moccasins, for his were badly worn.

The idea appealed to Mary, and she set out to make him a pair. I helped her cut them out and showed her how to stitch them together, and she spent several hours sewing them, and then decorating them with colored beads. When she was finished, they were well-made and quite handsome. I knew Cloud Walker would be pleased. It occurred to me that Shadow could also use a new pair of moccasins, and so I spent part of one morning cutting and sewing a pair for my husband. Shadow refused to wear any other kind of footwear, insisting that the shoes of the white man were stiff and uncomfortable, and he was always in need of new moccasins, for they wore out quickly. But these would be special, and not for everyday. The hide I used for the upper part of the moccasins had been tanned and bleached until it was the color of cream. When the moccasins were stitched together, I decorated them with porcupine quills dyed red.

In mid-December Cloud Walker moved back into the Cheyenne lodge behind our house, but he spent a good deal of time with us. Katherine cooed and gurgled in his arms, and Mary’s face glowed with that inner happiness that shines through when a woman is truly in love.

Frank continued to be stubborn about a divorce, and I knew it was hard for Mary and Cloud Walker to spend so much time together without being able to consummate their love. I often saw them standing close together under the trees, their arms linked around each other, and I wondered how much longer Mary could remain physically faithful to Frank Smythe. In a way, it seemed foolish to deny herself the joy of Cloud Walker’s touch. I knew that in her heart, Mary had already betrayed her husband many times, and I thought that the Cheyenne had the right idea about divorce. Perhaps it wasn’t moral or ethical according to the laws of the white man, but it was eminently more practical.

On Christmas Eve, we each picked one gift to exchange just before bedtime. Cloud Walker and Shadow were pleased with their new footwear, each declaring a perfect fit. I was delighted with Shadow’s gift to me, a dainty silver locket on a fine silver chain.

Inside were pictures of Hawk and Victoria, and Mary and Blackie. Shadow refused to have his picture taken. It seemed strange that after so many years of living with my people he could still be superstitious, but on this one point he refused to budge, no matter how I pleaded. I argued that Geronimo had had his picture taken many times, that the old warrior even sold photographs of himself to earn money, but still Shadow refused, arguing stubbornly that he did not want his likeness captured inside the white man’s black box.

“You will have to come outside for your present,” Cloud Walker told Mary, so we all bundled up and trooped outside and there, tethered to the hitch rail, stood the leopard Appaloosa filly.

“For me?” Mary breathed in wonder.

Cloud Walker nodded. “She is my gift to you.”

“Oh, Cloud Walker,” Mary squealed in delight, and threw her arms around his neck.

“You said you’d never sell that mare,” I whispered to Shadow as we went back into the house.

Shadow winked at me. “True, she no longer belongs to me, but she is still in the family. And when she is ready to be bred, I think Mary will want Smoke to be the sire.”

“And you’ll buy the foal.”

“Perhaps,” Shadow said, shrugging nonchalantly.

Later we sang Christmas carols and drank hot apple cider. We had bought Blackie a book on veterinary medicine, and he read it until he fell asleep.

Hawk and Victoria had gone to spend the evening with Vickie’s mother and the Reverend Brighton. I missed having them at our place, but I couldn’t blame Victoria for wanting to spend some time with her mother. Their relationship was growing closer and stronger, and I was glad. We would see Hawk and Vickie and the twins tomorrow at Pa’s.

We had a lovely Christmas that year. Shadow surprised me with the best present of all by announcing that he was coming to church with us. I was certain he was only teasing me until he appeared in the parlor dressed in his dark suit and tie.

“Shall we go?” he asked, and taking my arm, he led me outside and helped me into the buggy. Cloud Walker was outside waiting for us. It seemed he, too, was going to church. He didn’t own a suit, but he looked quite presentable in a pair of whipcord trousers and a white shirt. Cloud Walker helped Mary into the buggy, handed the baby to me, and teased Blackie about his slicked-back hair as he took a seat beside Mary.

“All set?” Shadow asked, glancing around.

“All set,” we answered in unison, and he clucked to the team and we were on our way.

Our family caused quite a stir as we entered the chapel. Shadow had never attended church before and there was a great deal of nudging and whispering as we took a place near the back of the church. A few minutes later Hawk arrived, accompanied by Vickie and the twins. I looked at Shadow, and he grinned at me.

“Merry Christmas, Hannah,” he said, smiling merrily. “Your whole family is here today.”

I nodded, too overcome with emotion to speak.

“Are you pleased?”

“It’s the best present I’ve ever had.”

I felt my throat swell with tears as I gazed at each member of my family, and I had never been happier. The church had never looked more beautiful. The single stained-glass window behind the altar glowed with color as the sun came shining through, highlighting the picture of the Good Shepherd. The hymns we sang that day had never sounded sweeter, and the Christmas story touched me as never before.