The Endless Sky (Cheyenne Series) (43 page)

      
Stephanie left the lodge after covering the kindly woman's body in preparation for burial. Her husband had died the preceding day. Now it was her sad task to tell Smooth Stone and Tiny Dancer that they had once again become orphans. As soon as she saw the expression on their faces, she realized they knew. Kneeling, she opened her arms to them and they flew to her, throwing their arms around her neck and holding on tightly. Smooth Stone struggled to be stoic as the warriors he emulated and idolized but his small body trembled. A thin trickle of tears seeped from Tiny Dancer's eyes but she did not make a sound. The children's silence was somehow more poignant than loud crying.

      
“You'll come to live with us. The White Wolf will be proud to claim you as his own...and so will I if you will accept a white woman as your mother,” she said, holding a child in each arm as they huddled together outside the death lodge.

      
Smooth Stone's head jerked up and fierce little black eyes held her pale gold ones. “Of course we will. Are you not Eyes Like Sun, wife to the White Wolf?”

      
“I have loved you ever since you brought us to the Cheyenne,” Tiny Dancer said shyly.

      
“Come then, it is all settled. I will take you to our lodge while Crow Woman is prepared for burial.”

      
“You take them nowhere, White Eyes.” Pony Whipper stood glaring down at them with hate etched in every line of his face.

      
“We belong to the White Wolf,” Smooth Stone said defiantly, taking a step forward to stand protectively in front of Stephanie and his sister.

      
“This is not the time or place for us to settle our differences, Pony Whipper.” Chase walked up behind the big man, who spun around angrily.

      
“It is not you, White Wolf, who I quarrel with but your woman. She has brought this pestilence among us. It is a spider people's disease that kills the Cheyenne—from her.” His finger stabbed at Stephanie as if it were a dagger. “She is bad medicine.”

      
“Eyes Like Sun is a healer who nursed the sick along with Red Bead and the other women. It is true the red spots are a white man's sickness but she has lived with us, isolated here in the stronghold for many months. She could not have brought the contagion down on us. It was you and your men who sojourned among the reservation Indians outside the forts—you carried the disease to us. Crazy Fox, one of your followers, was the first to show the red spots.”

      
“You lie! The guilt is hers!”

      
Chase's face remained impassive yet the tensing of his body revealed his fury—a cold deadly wrath that boded ill for Pony Whipper. Hearing the strident voices of the two old foes, a crowd had gathered. Watching from the sidelines, Stands Tall stepped forward. “What my brother's son says is wise. This is a time of mourning. It is not fitting for you to accuse him or his woman of anything. We must bury the dead.”

      
“What of Crow Woman's children? It is not fitting they be given to White Eyes,” Pony Whipper sneered, daring to insult not only Stephanie but Chase's white blood as well.

      
Stands Tall stiffened and a low murmuring went up through the crowd. The Crazy Dog was treading on thin ice indeed to challenge the White Wolf's entire family. Before either Chase or his uncle could reply, Elk Bull moved in front of Pony Whipper. “Your words are intended to provoke bloodshed and we have seen enough of death. Go now and leave this matter rest, else I shall see that you are the one who is pony whipped.”

      
At the old man's words and the threat of being whipped and stripped of all his possessions, the young warrior's eyes blazed with fury but he said nothing, only clenched his fists and held his body rigidly in check. Then he spun around and stalked away but not before he fixed Stephanie with a look of such naked loathing that she felt it like a physical blow.

      
Holding the children at her sides, she whispered to Chase, “He'll never forget what I did to him the day he attacked Kit Fox.”

      
“He's a dangerous enemy,” Chase said grimly. “I will speak with Plenty Horses about watching out for you whenever I'm away from camp. He may not like me but he pledged his honor when his family adopted you. As your foster brother he cannot let Pony Whipper harm you without losing face.”

      
“I was never certain why he agreed to accept me. He hates whites almost as much as Pony Whipper.”

      
Chase smiled. “You obviously don't realize the power Cheyenne women wield over their men. Granite Arm is no one to cross. When she learned about his role in Pony Whipper's attack on Kit Fox, you can bet she made her son pay.”

      
'‘She has been kind to me since her daughter's affections turned to Blue Eagle, but I never realized she could intimidate her son as she did me.”

      
“You still have much to learn of Cheyenne life,” he said dryly, then turned his attention to the children, who had stood silently through the ugly confrontation between the adults. Hoisting Tiny Dancer up in one arm, he nodded to Smooth Stone. “Come, let us see to moving your belongings into our lodge.”

      
“Will we be a family then?” Tiny Dancer asked timidly.

      
“Yes, we will be a family,” he replied as his eyes locked with Stephanie's.

* * * *

      
The evening was chill but the wind had died down, leaving the camp in a pristine white stillness that seemed magical. Chase and Stephanie quietly slipped from their lodge and walked to the hot springs. Their footsteps crunched softly in the powdery dry snow as the soft glowing lights from the fires faded in the darkness. Tiny Dancer and Smooth Stone were sound asleep in their lodge.

      
Although it was the natural Indian custom for parents to make love in the confines of small teepees while their offspring slept, Chase knew Stephanie would be uncomfortable doing so. When he had whispered that they might take an evening swim in the hot water, she accepted at once, grateful for his sensitivity to her feelings.

      
Those feelings remained as confused as ever, a peculiar mixture of love and guilt driven by an undeniable passion. He had awakened the inner fires of her soul. She could never seem to get enough of the touching and caressing, the soaring physical release and utter repletion that came to her each time they made love. She couldn't imagine not lying beside Chase Remington every night for the rest of her life.

      
When they reached the steep overhanging shelf of rocks that shielded the hot pools from the winter's chill, he took her in his arms, sliding his hands inside her heavy robe. Beneath it she wore nothing. When his cold hands made contact with her warm flesh, she gasped. “Your hands are like ice!” She made no attempt to pull away.

      
“And your body is warm from the inner fire. Warm me with your beautiful heat, Stevie,” he murmured.

      
“I love this quiet time of night, when we're all alone,” she said as her hands pulled open his robe, eagerly caressing his chest, gliding around his neck and pulling his head down to hers for a series of swift breathless kisses.

      
Soon the cold was forgotten as they let the robes fall at their feet, standing in the chill dark, fused hip to hip, arms and legs entwined as the kiss deepened. His tongue plunged into her mouth in a series of rhythmic strokes as their lower bodies kept time. She met each thrust, sucking on his tongue until he groaned deep in his throat. Then she rubbed hungrily on his lips, letting her tongue dart inside his mouth in the delicate little dips and glides that she had learned made him wild.

      
“You're getting all together too good at this,” he murmured into her mouth before savaging it with another fierce, hard kiss.

      
“Surely, you're not complaining. After all...you taught me,” she said when there was breath enough to whisper.

      
Feeling the smooth skin of her back roughen with goose bumps in spite of the heavy mantle of her hair, he scooped her into his arms and waded into the steamy bubbling water. When the lapping ripples touched her bottom, she squeaked in delight, then sank into the heavenly warmth. She held fast with her arms around his neck when he released her, letting her slide down the length of his body.

      
Stephanie could feel the hardness of his erection, hotter even than the water swirling around them. She wriggled her belly against the probing shaft and felt him tense. His passionate, almost desperate sensitivity to her body's slightest touch gave her a sense of power beyond anything she could ever have imagined before. This virile man, sophisticated and savage, desired her above all women. All of her life Stephanie had felt inadequate and unlovable, never more so than when Hugh had bedded her. Her first husband had used her but this one, whom she wed in a primitive pagan manner, truly loved her.

      
“I’ve always wanted to bring you here to make love in these waters...I've fantasized about it,” he growled, cupping her soft rounded buttocks and pressing her hard against him.

      
She pulled away and looked into his face, unable to see more than a shadowy outline and the glow of his eyes in the pale reflection of starlight on snow. “Have you brought other women here?” Although her tone was light, it was underlain with anxiety. Then she could see the white gleam of his smile.

      
“No one...ever...you're jealous...and you have no reason, Stevie. But I like it anyway,” he added, punctuating the words with soft wet licks and nips along her throat. He tangled his fingers in the long heavy fall of her hair, pulling back her head for greater access, then moved lower to where the water lapped at the tips of her high firm breasts. He took one in his hand and cupped it, watching the nipple harden to a stiff nubby peak, which he bit just hard enough to elicit a moan of pleasure from her. When he suckled it, she buried her fingers in his long shaggy hair, pressing his head closer while her legs scissored around his hips.

      
“Guide me home, darling,” he murmured as he took her other breast into his mouth, leaning back against the rocky wall of a ledge on the cliff.

      
Her hand slid over the sleek wet muscles of his shoulder, then down his chest, lower, reaching between their bodies to grasp his hard straining staff, knowing the instant she touched it he would cry out with ecstasy, and he did. She squeezed and stroked, reveling in her power over him for a moment, watching his eyes close and the tendons in his jaw and neck stand out. But the aching pulse at the center of her body could not long be denied. Guiding the ruby tip to the opening, she tightened her legs around him and rode down on it, impaling herself as the hot bubbling water rushed around them.

      
Chase stretched his arms out on the rock ledge behind him, bracing his feet wide apart and arching his hips to thrust deep within her. He could feel the tight hot sheath of her body wrap around him as if never to let go. He wished they could remain joined like this forever, but in a moment the fierce mating urge overpowered both of them. He withdrew a fractional bit and she rolled her hips, digging her nails into his shoulders.

      
The frenzy began building slowly as he thrust and withdrew to thrust again while she cradled him between her thighs, holding on to him, moving with him in perfect sync, raising up, rolling down. Their breath came out in short, sharp little gasps, the vapor puffs of it mingling with the steam from the pool. Every movement elicited an ever-increasing urgency.

      
The hot lapping water added to Stephanie's desperate need to experience that final culmination. It laved her body, surrounding her with soft wisps of steam. The wet slickness of her own natural lubrication was intensified by the heat surrounding them. She could feel the crest approach, now so achingly, beautifully familiar to her, an exquisite place of utter abandon, so mind robbingly pleasurable that it was almost painful. And yet she craved it, striving for it with Valkyrie-like ferocity, riding him as he did her.

      
When at last the climax rushed over her senses, she tightened her thighs to slow and prolong the moment, looking at the shadowed outline of Chase's face in the dim light of the rising moon, waiting for him to join her.

      
Chase was on fire. Making love to Stephanie in the hot pool was even better than he had fantasized and he had done that in most vivid detail. Her lithe young body was incredibly buoyant in the water, moving with fierce liquid grace. The bubbly current of the mineral spring teased against his testicles each time he thrust and withdrew from the slick wet heaven of her body. When he felt the first swift unmistakable contractions of her sheath around his shaft, he threw back his head and gave in to the pure animal satiation, spilling his seed deep within her.

      
His staff swelled and pulsed, adding to the incredible intensity of her release. She watched him arching up with every powerful muscle of his body as he gave in to the glory of completion.
As if he's offering himself to me like some splendid savage god.
The thought flashed through her mind as she felt herself filled with him, so deeply a part of him and he of her that she could not tell where one flesh ended and the other began.

      
When the trembling finally subsided, Chase wrapped his arms around her, holding their bodies still joined intimately together while he stroked the wet silk of her hair, flowing down her back. He buried his face at her neck and felt her arms tighten around his shoulders. They stood locked together for moments, or it could have been longer. Finally, he raised his head and their eyes met.