Savage Conquest (26 page)

An enticing smile flickered over her face as she
nodded yes. He rolled off the bed to strip off his jeans,
leaving himself naked before her intoxicated senses.
He reached for her hand, pulling her to her feet. He
removed her clothing then rested his quivering
hands on her shoulders. She was so soft and sleek. In the dim light, her hair seemed a blaze of golden
shades. Her eyes sparkled like rare blue diamonds.

He shifted his dark head to scan her entire body.
She lifted her chin to meet the appreciative gaze of
those deep blue eyes. His hand deserted her shoulder
to trace lightly over her cheeks and parted lips,
causing them both to tremble. His finger leisurely
trailed over her nose, around her alluring eyes, and
poised on her dainty chin. His hand was like an
explorer, one who not only mapped out territory, but
also claimed it as his.

Amanda was content to stand mesmerized by him,
to allow him free rein over her body and will. She felt
like a rose petal floating peacefully on an azure sea.
Finally, her hands went upward to caress his chest.
As her flattened palms moved over the tanned,
muscled flesh, she was aware of the thudding of his
heart.

Reis's head lowered. ever so slowly and his mouth
deftly covered hers, their tongues touching and
teasing. Amanda was ecstatic that she didn't have to
worry about where this unbridled behavior would
lead. Never had she felt freer or more confident; she
could do or say whatever she pleased. Reis was what
she wanted and needed; and he was here with her. She
felt so comfortable with him. She felt alive and happy
again. She felt wild and wonderful.

His hands eased to her breasts, each capturing and
tantalizing a firm mound. There was no need for
embarrassment or shyness or resistance. They were married; they were in love; they could do anything
which pleased them.

Her body accepted his tormentingly sweet invasion and her hand slid down to encircle his erect
manhood, which felt so silky and hot. Recalling the
wonders this firm flesh could work within her body,
she yearned to feel it driving wildly and urgently into
her womanhood.

Reis lifted her and pressed her to the cushiony bed.
As if he had forever, he made unhurried love to her. It
didn't take long for his lips and hands to have her
writhing beside him. He worked skillfully and
eagerly, increasing her feverish desire for him. He
gently drove his aching shaft into that moist paradise
which greeted him ardently.

He didn't move for a few moments, mastering the
urge to ride her fast and hard to end his own painful
hunger. He was sorely pressed to drive into her body
again and again, having dreamed of this night for
days. And she was just as ravenous and greedy. He
thrilled to the wanton way she responded to him, the
way she encouraged and tempted him to devour her,
body and soul.

As he set his rhythmic pattern, her legs engulfed
his lower body and locked around him. She worked
in unison with him, arching to meet his delightful
entries and sighing breathlessly each time he slightly
withdrew. She struggled against the sweet tension
which possessed her, attacked her, taunted her. Her
nerves tingled with fierce cravings; her body burned with scorching desire.

Spasm after spasm attacked and shook the very
core of her being. For an instant, colorful lights
danced before her darkened vision. Reis dashed aside
his restraint and raced along with her as she fought
and found a blissful path to rapture. When all was
spent, they relaxed into each other's arms. Still he
kissed her and caressed her. Then he rolled to his side,
carrying her along with him and she snuggled
against him as their pounding hearts and ragged
respirations returned to normal. Tenderly and
lovingly his hands trailed lightly over her silky body
as if memorizing this enchanting moment.

As they lay entwined and calmed, Reis realized the
depth of his love for this woman. He couldn't
imagine a life without her, but he surely could
envision future days and nights with her at his side.

As Amanda's hand teased over the damp hair on
his firm chest, she wondered how this vital and
masterful man had remained single so long. He was
arrestingly handsome, enormously virile, and skillful in bed. He was fearless, intelligent, confident, and
roguish. He was gallant and charming; he was witty
and genial. He was a treasure above price and she
loved him beyond words.

Just before drifting off to sleep, Amanda murmured softly, "Reis, do you think Luke and Randy
are all right?"

"Without a doubt, my love. I think this trip will be
good for both of them. Don't worry. We'll be seeing
them again before you know it," he replied, nuzzling her ear.

Laughter trickled from her parted lips as she
nestled closer to him. "Now that I think about it, I'm
glad we're alone. If anyone can take care of herself,
it's Miranda Lawrence."

Reis's mouth seized possession of hers, and sleep
was forgotten for the next hour ...

Miranda Lawrence and Lucas Reardon stood at
the railing of the steamboat which was carrying them
along the Missouri River from Omaha to the next
stop which would be Fort Randall. From there, they
would visit several military posts including Fort
Sully and Fort Pierre. After Pierre, they would take
an overland route north to Fort Rice and Fort
Lincoln; Fort Abraham Lincoln was reputed to be
the new location of George Custer, one of the objects
of Lucas's journey.

Miranda had anticipated a leisurely, perhaps
boring, trip by water. But she quickly discovered
there was little time for personal worries; there was
always something to hold her spellbound. She hoped
Amanda had received their messages so she wouldn't
fret over their safety. By now, Reis should be at her
side, insuring her happiness. Lucas had mailed
another letter from Omaha, but Miranda couldn't risk writing home yet. In a few weeks, she would send
a detailed account of the trip.

Along this awesome stretch of water, Miranda
viewed many sights. Huge cottonwoods grew beside
the water's edge, standing tall and proud as if
guarding this wild land from intruders. Joining
them in beauty were lovely chokecherries and wild
plum trees in full bloom. Along the banks, bushes
with heavy foliage frequently concealed the inland
from eager eyes and offered protection for the birds
and animals. She heard tales of how pioneers had
dreaded challenging this mighty river. Many days
and nights the ship's passengers and crew recounted
suspenseful sagas of crossings, some victorious and
some disastrous. The river was said to have devoured
boats of all sizes as well as the banks which tried to
contain its force.

She noticed many trading posts and small settlements along the way, each supplying an exciting tale
of its own. At sunset, everything appeared gold
except the dark outline of trees in the distance. The
tawny heavens reflected upon the water and cast a
golden aura. Sometimes the air was so still and quiet
it seemed eerie, but on moonless nights a mixture of
sounds could be heard above the singing and
laughter of the passengers, as the steamer halted its
trek to avoid unseen dangers in the darkness. On such
nights, Miranda enjoyed the throaty croaking of
frogs, the soothing calls of bobwhite quail, and the
gentle murmuring of the water as it moved along
peacefully.

Miranda was relieved to have missed the most
terrifying event of all: the breaking up of the frozen
river in the spring. She learned that settlers along the
river made bets on when "she would go." Cattle were
moved to high ground when the intimidating
snapping and cracking began sending warning
signals from the ice-locked river. It was said the
Missouri could go "raving mad" two times each year,
and the people sighed with relief and offered prayers
of gratitude when March and June passed uneventfully.

That news didn't sit comfortably with Miranda.
She had missed the March floods after the melting
snows dumped their contents into the river. But the
June rains which brought the threat of more
flooding were knocking on the calendar's door. Yet
the heavens were clear and blue; they even seemed
larger than back home. Miranda prayed they would
reach their destination before Mother Nature loosened her powers upon the land.

The Missouri was tricky, often hazardous to
navigate with its shifting channels, and pilots and
captains cursed her yet respected her. Due to the
perils of this river and the importance of its location,
the riverboat pilots or keelboat captains were highly
paid, and their cargo reaped large rewards. Furs,
gold, foods, military ammunition and supplies, and
Indian annuities were the main cargoes. Sometimes,
passengers were just as important: miners, farmers,
soldiers, and traders. But with the railroads closing in, steamers were not as crowded as they had once been.

Sadly, the day of the steamer and keelboat was
vanishing. By the time Miranda and Lucas were
ready to go home, the railroad would be finished to
Yankton at Fort Randall. Before long, supply crafts
would only be necessary between settlements or into
areas where the railroad hadn't yet come.

For a while longer, these crafts and their adventures would continue. Many of their perils and
hardships lay in submerged or floating trees or
shifting sandbars. Others lay in striking sunken
vessels which rested on the shallow bottom with
snagged hulls or burned shells. At present, the
greatest danger was low water. The spring rush from
melting snows had passed and the rise from June
rains hadn't come yet.

Miranda watched the river in fascination and tried
not to think about her run-ins with Weber. She
concentrated on envisioning her sister smiling and
walking beside Reis Harrison. Miranda was confident that Reis was more than capable of protecting
Amanda, solving the case surrounding Weber, and
making Amanda extremely happy. Having seen Reis
and Amanda together, Miranda longed fora love that
powerful and unique. But she would not avidly
search for love and passion, not even among the
numerous males on the steamer who had vied for her
attention in vain. She would let love and passion find
her when the time and man were right.

Halfway between Omaha and Fort Randall, the steamer ran aground on a sandbar. The Martha
Lane had previously had contests with smaller
sandbars, which had been won quickly and almost
easily. But the heavy spars used to free steamers
seemed of little use this time. With a full moon to
guide them, they had continued long past dusk. The
sandbar seemed to have "appeared from nowhere" as
the pilot claimed when they were brought to an
abrupt stop, one which flung the supper dishes and
several passengers to the wooden floor. As if Fate was
against the voyage, the moon then vanished behind
ominous clouds, preventing the crew from dislodging the boat until morning.

The following day dawned cloudy and dim. When
the damage was assessed, the pilot cursed under his
breath. Clearly they were too heavy to "grasshopper"
off the bar without unloading the passengers,
animals, and heaviest cargo. To make matters worse,
the rudder had been cracked, and had to be repaired
on the spot. It required over an hour to empty the
craft.

Lucas was chatting amiably with some of the
passengers, in particular two intriguing soldiers
'from Fort Rice. Miranda was allowed to stroll along
the riverbank, taking in the sights and sounds. She
admired the wild beauty around her and plucked
several colors of pasqueflowers to put in her cabin.
She watched squirrels playing in the trees and
listened to birds singing joyfully.

As if to seek solitude of its own, a narrow stream departed the banks of the "Misery"-as Miranda had
heard the river being called this morning by a harried
pilot-and made a winding path inland, which she
followed. She wasn't far from the river and the other
passengers, but she felt encased in a private world,
concealed from their view by leafy trees and bushes.
Growing beside a fallen tree was a lovely patch of
wildflowers, seemingly anxious to be the first land
decorations this spring. She headed toward it to
gather a few to add to those in her grasp.

As she bent forward to reach for the first one, an
arrow swished past her outstretched arm. With a
thud, it buried its sharp tip in the head of a
rattlesnake which had been about to strike Miranda.
The serpent thrashed wildly in the verdant grass and
fallen leaves as it struggled against inevitable death,
its ominous tail sending forth a belated rattle. Finally
it was still and silent.

Miranda stared at the arrow with red-and-blacktipped feathers on one end, recalling that her mother
had told her long ago that each warrior or tribe used
certain feathers and colors for identification. She
didn't know who was standing behind her; but there
was only one way to find out if it was a white man or
an Indian, a rescuer or an enemy. She turned and
opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't. He was
standing so close to her that she wondered how she
failed to make contact with that powerful bronze
body while turning. He was an Indian, doubtlessly a
warrior, judging from his stance and painted face. In less than an instant, she knew she was in no danger
from the virile and handsome man who entranced
her with his magnetic gaze.