Say You Love Me (27 page)

The rope reins were cutting into Jacie's hands, she was squeezing them so tightly in her terror. To her amazement, however, the growls subsided, then the great cat became quiet as it surveyed them warily with its shining golden eyes. Finally, with an annoyed swish of its tail, it turned and disappeared among the rocks.

Luke saw how she had paled. "See? It isn't necessary to kill everything you fear. Sometimes it goes away on its own, in peace."

"And he understood what you said to him?" Jacie was stunned.

"Who knows?" Luke kneed the stallion and started him moving again. "Maybe it was the tone of my voice. He sensed I was no threat unless he attacked. So he left. In peace," he added with a smile.

"But it doesn't always work that way."

"No. Sometimes you have to kill to save yourself."

As they rode on, Jacie concentrated on the world around her, asking questions, not only because she wanted to learn, but to steer conversation away from anything personal. Hard as it was not to look at Luke and remember the ecstasy they'd shared, she was determined to try and forget. She even attempted to think about Michael, but try as she might, it was difficult to dwell on him when images of Luke's lovemaking lingered. Washed with guilt, she wondered whether Michael would be able to tell that she had been with another man, and if so, whether he would still want her. It was going to be difficult enough for him to hear the truth about her parents without thinking of her in the arms of another man.

But deep inside, a voice taunted that no woman could ever forget being made love to by a man like Luke.

She saw her first porcupine, along with mice, gophers, toads and lizards. They ate their fill of prairie plums, hard and green but tasty. Then Luke shot a prairie chicken with an arrow, and they cleaned it together beside a rushing stream to skewer and roast for their midday meal.

As they rested in the shade of a cottonwood grove, bellies full for the first time in days, Jacie ventured to ask, "Where have you decided to take me?"

"To a place called Nacogdoches, where I have a friend who works for a stagecoach line. He'll see that you're put on a coach heading east." He watched her face for her reaction and did not miss how her eyes suddenly danced with tiny dots of red among the lavender hue.

"You can take me anywhere you want to, but I won't go back now."

"Lord, you are one stubborn woman," he said, irritation boiling over. "What's it going to take to make you realize it's best for you to forget this nonsense? Hell, even if you did find her, that man waiting for you wouldn't want you bringing her back. If you thought he would, you'd have asked him to help you find her in the first place. Forget it, Jacie. If she's alive, she's better off where she is than in your world, living in misery."

They were sitting side by side, and she leapt to her feet, hands clenched into tight fists. "You only feel that way because the only life you've ever known is that of a savage. You might have gone to school in Mexico, but so what? That didn't tell you anything about my people."

"Oh no?" He laughed bitterly and rose also, towering angrily above her. "I know plenty about your people." He felt a wave of bitterness to recall the prejudices he had known whenever he crossed the line between red and white. The army might respect him for the expert scout he was, but he was ever aware of the shadowed contempt. The only way he had ever been accepted was to dress like a white man, wear his hair like one, and pretend to be everything he was not. Luke did not like living that way and passed for white only when necessary.

Jacie was staring at him warily. The way his face had turned to granite, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly in his fury, she was not sure she wanted to continue the debate. Better to be on their way and part company as soon as possible. She got up and started toward her pony, but his next words stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Yes, I know all about your world, Jacie, but you know nothing of mine."

"Nor do I want to," she said coldly. "And I told you before—we are even now. You saved my life. I saved yours. You got what you wanted last night. You have no more need of me, so let's be on our way. The sooner I'm rid of you, the better."

He reached her in quick strides to grab her by her shoulders and spin her about. "No," he said, face ashen, eyes flinty. "You're wrong.
You
got what
you
wanted last night. I would have stopped any time you wanted me to, and you know it. But you didn't want to stop. You wanted to see what it was like to mate with someone you think of as a savage, didn't you?"

She slapped him.

He saw the blow coming and could have ducked or caught her hand but didn't, because he wanted her to lose her temper, to get mad. Anything to head off the emotions he had sensed smoldering beneath the surface all day.

Jacie braced herself, unsure of what he would do. He could snap her neck with one squeeze of his strong hands, but he merely glared at her with icy black eyes.

After what seemed forever, he said, "Let's go. We won't reach Nacogdoches by night, but don't worry. I won't touch you."

"Well, that's fine, because I—"

He held up a hand. "Silence. Don't move." Hurrying to his horse, he took his rifle, and motioning again to Jacie to stay where she was, he disappeared among the thick trees.

Jacie drew her knife and quickly dropped to her knees behind a clump of plum bushes, praying there were not other Indians around who might be Luke's enemies. If they killed him, she shuddered to think of what they would do to her, but she also knew she did not want anything to happen to him. No matter that he had made her mad, no matter how she argued within herself, she knew she cared for him deeply.

Long, torturous moments passed. She could stand it no longer and was about to creep out and see for herself what was happening but heard footsteps approaching and stayed where she was. Only when she heard Luke's voice speaking his native tongue did she dare rise up, then shrank back to see he had two Indians with him.

He saw she was alarmed and called, "It's all right, Jacie. They're friends."

She peeked out. Scalplocks fell from the tops of their heads, and one of them had tucked a single yellow feather into his. The other's braids were wrapped in what looked like animal fur. But it was their faces that startled her the most, for they were painted with bright red streaks.

"They won't harm you, because you are with me. They're members of a Comanche band called the Honey Eaters."

"What... what do they want?" She had to strain to speak, because the way they were looking at her was terribly unnerving.

"There's a wounded child. A boy. Too young to be a warrior, and they didn't know he had followed them until it was too late. They ran into some trouble with renegades, and he was shot in the leg. They're on their way to their medicine man, but the boy is bleeding badly. Can you help him?"

Jacie did not hesitate. She ran to grab her bag from where it was tied on the pony and followed Luke out of the Cottonwood grove—and stopped short. There were at least twenty more men on horseback, all of them staring at her with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

"I showed them my wound," Luke said. "I told them how you helped me, so they will let you tend him."

She saw him then, the small form held in the arms of one of the mounted warriors, blood flowing from the child's leg. She started toward him, but one of the warriors screamed out, and she hesitated. Luke spoke to him, then gave her a gentle push to indicate she should continue.

Grudgingly, the Indian holding the boy handed him down to Luke, who laid him at Jacie's feet. A piece of doeskin torn from someone's leggings had been wrapped around his leg below the knee. Jacie removed it, did a hasty examination, and was relieved to see the bullet had apparently passed through the calf of the leg and had not hit bone. If she could stop the bleeding, she was confident he would heal.

Luke followed her directions, starting a fire and bringing water so she could cleanse the wound properly.

Jacie melted the lump of pine tar, which would be packed into the wound. For a bandage, she tore strips from her blanket, finally able to advise Luke, "Tell them he'll be fine. Their medicine man will know what to do from here on."

He translated the message, and they took the boy and left with slight nods of gratitude in her direction, giving a sack of fresh deer meat to Luke.

Luke and Jacie did not talk as they rode onward, each lost in private thought.

They stopped for the night near a small waterfall, the pool beneath dancing with pink and purple shadows from the setting sun over the rise beyond. Serene and peaceful as it was, Jacie felt a whirlpool of emotion within to see how Luke was ignoring her as he set about to prepare their food.

They ate in silence, and afterward Luke went beyond some bushes to bed down, and Jacie spread her blanket near the dying fire.

An unseen hand flung thousands of diamonds to sparkle in the velvet cloak spread overhead. Somewhere a coyote gave a mournful howl. Jacie was no longer frightened by such night sounds, but loneliness was a vise, squeezing tears that stung her eyes as she prayed sleep would come soon to take her away from her miserable ponderings, for she was starting to think maybe Luke was right. Perhaps it would be best for her to go back and leave well enough alone.

She tried to focus on thoughts of Michael. Her heart had still not told her she loved him, but that no longer seemed important. What preyed upon her now was how she felt a desperate need to get as far away from Luke as possible, and she hoped by dwelling on Michael and the security he had always offered, she could find solace in an otherwise shaky world.

But it was not working.

Over and over she relived in her mind how she had felt so drawn to Luke, almost from the moment they met. It was as though they had known each other their whole lives. And their coming from two different worlds had not seemed to matter as they had so eagerly struggled to bond and become one unto the other, in spirit as well as flesh.

Like the night wind's cooling kiss soothing her heated face, the thought came to her—if tomorrow their time together ended, then what harm would there be in having one last night to remember forever and always?

Afraid that if she hesitated she would lose her courage, Jacie got up and went to him.

He was not asleep, she knew. He lay on his back, arms folded behind his head, staring at the curtain of night, deep in reverie.

She sat down next to him and touched her fingertips to his hard, flat belly and felt him start, but he made no sound.

And then she voiced the decision she had not realized she had made until that precise moment: "I'm going home, Luke. I'm giving up. I'll always wonder whether I would have found my mother and what the outcome would have been, but I'll just make myself believe that if she is still alive, she's better off not knowing about me."

"And you go home to marry the man who waits for you?" he asked quietly, painfully.

"He will make me a good husband. I will do all I can to make him a good wife. That's my world. But for tonight"—she drew a deep breath of resolve—"I want to be a part of yours."

He knew what she meant, and he wanted it too. He sat up and gently drew her dress over her head, and she helped him to render her naked, their eyes locked in feverish anticipation all the while.

He stripped off the army pants, then drew her down beside him.

Slowly he ran his hands up and down her body, and she murmured with a shy kind of pleasure. How easy it would have been for him to fall upon her like the cougar upon a rabbit, to devour her and feed his great hunger. But Luke held back, wanting to savor each morsel of her body, to delight in every touch, every caress.

Her fingers began to play across his chest, her touch inflaming him, and when her hand traveled lower, to gently caress and stroke his hardness, it was only by mustering every shred of self-control he possessed that he was able to keep from entering her then and there.

Jacie could feel how he wanted her, could feel her own desire quickening within her. He began to suckle at her breasts, cupping her bottom and pulling her to and fro gently, sliding himself between her thighs, and suddenly she could stand no more. She caught him by surprise, reaching to take him in her hand and guide him into her softness.

Luke was pleasantly stunned, and he rolled onto his back, taking her with him, so she could straddle and gently ride him. He allowed her to set her own pace, rocking with her, his hips grinding against the ground beneath.

She arched her back and caught her hair with her hands, flinging it to whip about her face in the playful breeze, moaning deliciously as every nerve in her body screamed with joy.

He held her by her waist as he thrust in and out, and when he began to feel the tiny shudders within her, he knew she was ready.

Rolling her onto her back, he braced himself with his hands on the ground, arms straight, while he rocked against her, for he wanted to see her face in the moonlight as he took them both to divine fulfillment.

And when it was over, when they lay with arms about each other, her head on his shoulder, Luke pressed his lips lovingly against her forehead, then reverently whispered, "Tonight, if only for a little while, heaven traded places with the earth..."

Chapter 22