Untamed (17 page)

It was as Josie was spreading an extra blanket over Sissy that Long Belly made the mistake of trying to sneak out of the cabin behind her back. Right behind him, she threw on Daniel's coat and boots, and braved the storm. The wind was blowing so hard, it was driving snow as if it were stakes, making it difficult to see. That was why Josie ran straight into Long Belly, who was relieving himself to the side of the porch.

"Oh," she said, eyes averted. "Excuse me. I'm just on my way to the barn to tend the animals."

Lowering her head to hide her embarrassment, she went on her way, struggling to keep herself upright through the stronger gusts as she made a beeline for the barn. Sweetpea, Josie discovered, had made herself at home against the big sliding door, which made it nearly impossible to open. She tugged until there was a crack in the door just big enough to squeeze through, and saw that the buffalo was still munching on the hay she'd tossed to her earlier. The animal seemed perfectly content in her new home.

Moving quietly to make sure the beast stayed that way, Josie lit the lantern and went about the business of feeding the horses and milking the cow. Through it all, Sweetpea kept a close watch on her, but didn't appear to be ruffled by her presence. She prayed the animal would always feel so calm around her, at least until she'd put all of her grand plans into motion.

Josie knew that Daniel and his savage friend must think her selfish, or maybe even insane, but they had no way of knowing that Sweetpea might well represent the kind of freedom Josie had long dreamed of—a ranch of her very own. What banker in his right mind would refuse to stake the woman who owned the last surviving buffalo, especially if she somehow managed to find Sweetpea a mate? The very thought filled her with a sense of power she'd never felt before, but also weighed Josie down with the burden of taking on such a responsibility.

At what magic age, she wondered, did a person know, inexorably when she was right and the world was wrong? Was there ever a time to be completely sure of one's convictions, or was this the norm, this living in a constant state of anxiety over decisions made in the heat of the moment? All Josie knew for sure was that this apparently unusual buffalo had bestowed on her the means to become independent as well as a certain power over the men inside the cabin—the savage in particular. Right or wrong, it wasn't a gift she intended to relinquish easily.

When Josie returned froth the barn, pail of milk in hand, Daniel had put away his sewing supplies for the night, and Long Belly was sitting on the edge of Sissy's bed.

"The animals are taken care of for the night," she announced. "And Sweetpea is resting comfortably."

``Good," said Daniel, rising from his chair. "l think it's about time we all had a good rest, too."

"I am ready to have a long sleep," replied Long Belly as he got off the bed and headed for the ladder.

Milk pail still in hand, Josie's gaze went suddenly to the bed where Sissy slept. Long Belly stopped in his tracks and turned his eyes on the same spot, as did Daniel, who'd been hobbling across the room.

As one their attention shifted from the bed and settled on each other. Then Daniel draped his arms over his crutches and said, "Well, hell. Where're we all gonna sleep?"

Chapter 11

Long Belly was the first to offer what he considered the simplest solution. "My brother and his bad leg must sleep with Buffalo Hair. I will share my loft with Broken Dishes."

Daniel jabbed Long Belly's ribs with the end of his crutch. "The hell you will, you horny bastard."

"I meant only to share my blanket," the Cheyenne insisted.

Josie, who wasn't going to accept any solution but her own" said, "I'll just stay down here with Sissy. You two fellahs can bunk together in the loft."

"Over my dead body," Daniel declared.

A sudden ally, Long Belly agreed. "This great warrior does not share his bed with other men. I will sleep with Broken Dishes or I will sleep alone."

She gave them both a quick smile. "You two figure it out. I'm turning in."

With that, she marched over to the bed, drew back the spread, and climbed in next to Sissy, buckskins and all.

A pregnant silence settled over the room after that. Moments later Daniel thumped up to the end of the bed. "Even if I wanted to sleep with Long Belly, which I don't," he complained. "I can't climb up to the loft with this leg. Where do you suggest I bed down?"

Although she regarded him with a certain amount of empathy, Josie wouldn't budge. "It wasn't my idea to come here, remember? If you can think of a better solution than this—one that doesn't have me lying on the floor or with that savage—I'm willing to listen. Until then, if you don't mind, I'd like to get some sleep."

More silence, this time accompanied by the muted sound of Long Belly's pacing. Josie closed her eyes to the men and the light still glowing from the lantern. Instantly drowsy, she let her mind wander into the future, where she entertained herself with visions of her buffalo and cattle ranch. Pondering a name for the enterprise, she first thought of calling it The Flying Josie. No, that was far too simple for such a big change in her life. Freedom Rings came to mind. The brand would be unique, but the name was definitely too patriotic. How about The Buffalo Queen Ranch? Not only in the running, but the leader. It was as she tried to imagine the sort of brand that might go with such a name that a male voice suddenly rattled Josie's eardrums—and her nerves.

"You will sleep in the loft."

Her eyes flew opened to see the big Cheyenne hunched over the bed. Josie clutched the buffalo spread at her throat and held tight. "What did you say?"

"We have discussed it." Long Belly inclined his head toward Daniel, who was sitting at the table. "You will sleep in the loft, alone. My friend will go to his own bed with Sissy. I will rest these weary bones on the floor before the fire. Go now."

Since she couldn't think of a rational argument against the plan—a sudden and miserly resentment over the idea of sharing Daniel with Sissy, never mind that she was unconscious, didn't seem at all rational—Josie got out of the warm bed and scrambled up the ladder to the loft.

Once inside the Indian's lair, she immediately noticed that the ceiling was too low for her to stand upright and that she could barely see, even though the lantern still burned brightly on the table downstairs. Following shadows, she crawled on her hands and knees across a large buffalo rug and discovered an apple crate against the back wall that was masquerading as a night table. A fat candle in a chipped saucer sat on the top of the crate along with a box of matches.

Josie put a flame to the wick and saw that the wall to her right was home to stacks and stacks of rolled-up hides, most of them buffalo, along with elk, deer, and an assortment of smaller bundles she couldn't identify. The rug she'd crawled across turned out to be a bedspread covering yet another buffalo hide stretched out on the floor beneath it. A pair of thick woolen blankets were sandwiched between these two hides—sheets, she surmised. No wonder Long Belly dreamed that buffalo talked to him in the night.

Josie brought the light around to shine on the wall to her left and saw that it was the resting place for a pile of clothing. Among those articles, she spotted a couple of small bows, miniatures of authentic weapons, and what looked like it might have been a crude stick horse. Long Belly's childhood toys? Next to them in the corner stood the Indian's weapons of war—a full-sized bow and quiver of arrows, some kind of club with a vicious looking spike at the end, and a huge rifle.

Not at all ready to trust the owner of those weapons, Josie crawled over to the corner and helped herself to the club. Once she'd stripped down to her chemise and blown out the candle, she climbed, weapon in hand, beneath the blankets. By then the lantern downstairs had been doused for the night, leaving only the glow from the stove to light the cabin, a faint reddish tinge that clung to the ceiling like a bloody sunset. It looked as if the fires of hell were banging at the gates of heaven.

As Josie slept, she dreamt of buffalo, of a great herd of the beasts thundering across the grasslands that encompassed The Buffalo Queen Ranch. She rode among the bison atop a sleek ebony stallion—The Black, who continuously glanced back at her through a pair of bright blue eyes. A sparkling crown of diamonds and pearls adorned her hair, proclaiming her the Queen, and ranchers came from miles around in hopes of observing the secrets of her success.

The Black, adoration clearly showing in his dazzling blue eyes, nuzzled her ear, odd considering the distance between his muzzle and her head. And then the dream became even more confusing. More real. It wasn't the muzzle of a horse that caressed her, she realized, but lips. Male lips. As the night and consciousness cane back to her, and she realized that this was no dream, but real, Josie knew the man lying beside her could be no one but Long Belly.

Her hand firmly clasped around the club, she pulled it out from beneath the covers and swung it hard against the Indian's body.

"Oh, hell," he cried.

Josie arced the club above her head, preparing to deliver another blow. "Get away from me, you no-account liar. If you don't leave right this second, the next one'll be right between your eyes."

"Damn, Josie. What's got into you?"

She paused in midswing. "Daniel? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me," he muttered. "What's left of me anyway. I think you crushed my chest."

"Oh, no—I thought you were Long Belly."

"I kinda wish that I was." He uttered a short laugh. "At least then I'd be safe in bed with Sissy."

"And why aren't you—in bed with Sissy, I mean?"

"Because," he said, taking the club from her hand and flinging it across the room. "Things weren't working out downstairs. Sissy moaned every time I so much as moved my foot, and who could sleep with Long Belly rolling around, carrying on like a lost calf because he got stuck with the floor for a bed?"

Josie didn't see how there could be much difference between that and the plank flooring in the loft. She was also curious about Daniel's sudden recovery. "How did you manage to get up here with a broken leg?"

"I took the splint off. Since the infection cleared up, that contraption has been more hindrance than help. I figure I ought to be able to do without the crutches in a week or so—if I don't freeze to death first. Is it all right if I get under the blanket with you?"

Since it hardly made sense to turn him away now, Josie lifted the buffalo spread and guided him between the sheets. Warming himself, Daniel snuggled close to her, making her all too aware that he wore nothing but a pair of woolen drawers. Josie had prepared herself against an attack by the Indian, not an attack on her senses by this man. But Lord, it felt good to have him lying next to her again, to be safe and snug in his arms. She almost wished she hadn't told the fib about her nonexistent sickness.

"That's a hell of a lot better," Daniel said, slipping his arms around her back and waist. "There's nothing like body heat to take the chill out of a fellah."

He draped his good leg across her then, pressing his body against hers, hot and hard, and then his hands went to her hair. Stroking her locks, slipping his fingers through them as he'd done earlier, he sighed.

"Your hair is so soft," Daniel murmured, kissing the braid at her temple. "I can't get enough of it, the way it feels or the way it looks. The red in it reminds me of the sun breaking through a storm cloud. It's such a beautiful, coppery chestnut, it doesn't seem real."

His words were like liquid tremors pouring down Josie's spine, saturating her entire body with a nameless, heated desire. She moaned, hardly aware she'd vocalized the sensation, and then breathed deeply of Daniel's scent—pure, natural male with only a hint of the out-of-doors to season his unique flavor.

"Josie," he whispered, his voice a flame in the dark. "Sweet, sweet Josie. It wasn't just Long Belly's complaints that drove me up here. I missed you next to me. Did you miss me, even a little?"

She'd missed him all right. His warmth, his scent, the things he said to her in the darkness, the things he didn't say, even though he thought her a diseased whore. Daniel seized Josie's moment of hesitation with a kiss, rimming her lips for an eternity with his own before sliding his tongue into her mouth. She'd once tried this kind of kiss with Henry, an experience he'd promised would send her soaring to the stars. It nearly sent her heaving into a bucket instead. There were stars to be had, she now realized, when kissed by a man, not a boy. Especially if that man had a very good idea about what he was doing. Doubts aside, she threw herself into the experience, mimicking the thrusts of Daniel's tongue, and then grew brazen enough to add a. few twists of her own.

This prompted a new boldness in him, and the next thing Josie knew, Daniel's hands were fumbling with the buttons of her chemise, his lips nibbling her earlobe as he whispered, "I know you're sick and all, but I want you, lady. I want you so much, I'm about to bust. I'm begging you—put me out of my misery some other way."