by Jenna Kernan
“Yes—how practical of you to guard your heart. Mine is already broken.” Her hand slipped away.
“I’m sorry, Lena. I never meant for this to happen.”
She nodded. “I think I would like to lie down now.”
“Does your wound pain you?”
Her fingers rubbed over the spot. “The ache is somewhat deeper. I feel as if I have been shot twice today.”
“I best have a look.”
She turned away. “No. I will see to it. Just lay out my bed, please. I shall call if I need assistance.”
He did as she requested and gave her privacy, busying himself with checking on the animals before returning to the fire. “How does it look?”
“The bleeding has ceased.”
She slipped between the buffalo robes until all that remained in view was the curling waves of coppery hair glowing to rival the fire.
He climbed into his own bed. Last night she lay in his arms. This morning she had offered herself to him. He was glad he hadn’t taken her. She wasn’t his and never would be.
Then why did regret stab at his belly like a dull blade?
She gazed up at the night sky. “I wonder what it would be like to pick a man for love alone.”
“Some folks here marry for the same reason as you. Wealth, land—it’s common enough.”
“Would you come sit beside me?”
Her eyes told the rest. She wanted him. He set his jaw as he considered her sorrow. “Lena, if we was to make love, one of us will have to choose.”
“Choose?”
“I’d have to leave my world or you’d have to leave yours.”
Her gaze dropped and she nodded. “Yes. That’s so.” Her long sigh echoed in his soul. “My family has high hopes for me.”
“Your pa is forcing you to marry.” He felt compelled to point that out.
“It is every father’s responsibility to see his daughters well-settled. I will not fault him for it. I feel sorry for him. He so wanted a son. I know I have been a disappointment to him.”
Troy wondered how anyone could be disappointed with a woman as magnificent as Lena.
“He does not understand this need I have to paint. I think he hoped that by indulging me, I would outgrow it somehow, like a girl outgrows her dolls. But nothing changed in that regard.” She turned her gaze on him, increasing his disquiet. “Do you remember when I mentioned my mother’s lovers?”
He shifted uncomfortably and then nodded.
“I will likely do the same someday, after I produce an heir for my husband.”
He waited, wondering if she was heading up the trail he suspected. His stomach knotted as he considered life in the shadows of her world.
“I know you love the West. I understand it. But perhaps you would come east?”
“Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”
She swallowed. “I would like you to come back with me. I could see all your needs met, a townhouse with servants, monthly income.”
“You got that much money?”
“More than I could spend in many lifetimes. My mother saw to it that I have my own funds so I am not at the mercy of my husband—in addition, I am my father’s heir.”
She waited, her hands clasped tight before her on the buffalo robe.
“Lena, I don’t want a house and servants. I want a means to make my own living and my freedom.” But he also wanted her. He wanted her badly enough to consider what she offered. Then he remembered something else she said. “What if we have children?”
“I would raise them.”
His gaze narrowed. “But I won’t.”
“Troy, please understand. I would have to maintain a facade of respectability.”
“Even if it’s a lie?”
“This is how it is done.”
“You’re asking me to give up my world and my children to live as some kind of male whore.”
Her eyes rounded. “That is certainly not at all what I am suggesting. I only seek a means that we might not be parted. I have feelings for you. I am not experienced with such things but I know that what we share is unique. This way we can be together.”
“Call it what you like.” He glowered at the fire. “What if I asked you to stay?” He waited, watching the indecision play across her features. Longing, yes, he recognized that and then what?
She lowered her head. “I cannot.”
Anger cooked his insides. “You’re shamed by me.”
Her head snapped up. “No.”
“You want me in the darkness. Come daylight, you want respectability.”
“That’s not true.”
“Shamed by me. An Indian lover—a savage. You’re strong enough to take a Sioux arrow, but not strong enough to admit you love me.”
“You are wrong, Troy. I love you. I love my family as well. If my love for you steals all their hopes and dreams, how can I live with myself?”
Troy drew a deep breath. It was as he’d known from the beginning. He could not keep her without losing himself.
“You’re willing to ask me to give up everything for your love.”
“Yes.”
“Stay,” he whispered.
She dropped her chin peeking at him through tear-soaked lashes. “I cannot.”
He nodded. “Then you appreciate what you’re asking. I guess I ain’t man enough to live like you’re suggesting. I always made my own way. It don’t sit right to be your fancy man.”
“I understand.” Her eyes glowed bright with the tears that remained unshed.
They faced each other. She spoke first. “So this is all we have then—this night, a few more days?”
“Reckon so.”
She drew a ragged breath. “You said that I did not understand doing without. Perhaps you are right, but I fear I will spend my life doing without the man I love.”
He didn’t know if he should send her back or try to keep her. Up until this moment, he knew with certainty what was best for them both. But now, things had gone too far.
“We only known each other a short while. The ties between us ain’t too tight to break, over time.” The sorrow in her eyes bored into him like a weevil on a corncob. He tried another lie but his heart wasn’t in it. “If we did stay together, we might grow to dislike each other.” He didn’t believe it, but thought it might comfort her.
“Familiarity breeds contempt?” She shook her head. “Please don’t diminish our feelings as some summer’s fancy. I know what it is. A day will not pass that I do not think of you and wonder if you think of me.”
“I don’t see no way out but for you to leave your life or me, mine.”
She nodded and lay back on her solitary bed. Her eyes closed and tears streamed from beneath her lids.
Troy watched her by firelight, but she said no more. After the fire burned to orange embers and he could no longer make out her features, he fell into a fitful sleep where he dreamed he was a raven trapped in a tiny cage.
He woke to the scream of her horse and rolled to his feet, rifle aimed. What he saw brought him back a step.
Lena recognized the call of her horse and staggered from her sleeping robes. She would have sworn she had not slept a wink all night, but here it was morning as she rose from the ground, pistol in hand. Beside her, Troy lowered his rifle.
She turned to see his new Appaloosa stallion bite Scheherazade’s neck to still her as she danced on the end of her line. Somehow the brute had broken his hobbles and now reared up to throw himself upon the tiny mare’s back. The stallion bit her horse again and leaped forward on hind legs, thrusting into her mare.
Lena screamed. “Get him off.”
Troy ran forward.
The stallion bucked now, in frantic rhythm as the mare staggered beneath his weight, twisting and screaming in a vain effort to dislodge her attacker.
In an instant it was done. The stallion withdrew from the mare’s quaking body and dropped back to all fours. Scheherazade kicked him in the chest and danced a
way, circling around the tree and tangling her line. The stallion came at her again, but this time Troy captured his harness and dragged him away.
Lena rallied to go to her horse.
Her mare trembled as Lena stroked her neck, whispering assurances. “There now. You poor dear.”
She glanced at Troy and found him tying off the stallion some distance away, before returning to her.
“She all right?”
“She is terrified.” Lena realized that she shivered as well, overcome by the violence and raw power of the creatures’ coupling.
“Now that she’s in heat, they’ll be no keeping him clear.”
“Oh, but you must. She is a purebred. That monster will ruin her. I cannot allow her to breed to that.” She pointed to the spotted brute now happily munching the grass about him as if he had not just raped her horse. When she turned her attention to Troy, she discovered a look upon his face as if she had just kicked him in the stomach.
His flat tone did not seem at all right. “We don’t want to mix their blood lines.”
“Exactly. What if she gets with foal? Oh, what will Father say?”
For a moment she did not comprehend the cold censure glaring in his eyes. Understanding dawned and she shivered. He was the stallion and she, the mare.
She gasped. “Troy, I am sorry. I did not mean to imply.”
“But you ain’t ashamed of me. Same thing, isn’t it? Common everyday horse and a princess. Never mind that she’s in heat and calling to him. He ain’t good enough for her. Never will be.”
He spun away.
“Troy, wait. Please.”
From then on, he kept the mules between his stallion and her mare. At night he staked the Appaloosa a good distance from Scheherazade on a double line and he slept across the fire from Lena. He never touched her again, nor did he smile or joke. Everything they shared was ruined and she had no idea how to make things right.
How could loving a man bring them such terrible heartache?
Chapter 18
For the next eight days and nights, Troy kept his hands off Lena and he kept his stallion off her mare. The incident only increased his hatred for the Appaloosa as it reminded him with each glance that he was a wild mustang and she a purebred. As the fort grew nearer his mood darkened. He couldn’t have Lena unless he gave up everything he was. He glanced back. Damned if he wasn’t tempted.
Letting her go would take more strength than he had.
What if he went?
He’d live in comfort like her favorite hound. Perhaps she’d give him a stall next to her horse. He could bear it for Lena. Because despite her humiliating offer, he still wanted her. On the outside they were opposites, inside she matched him in courage and something else—a lust for independence. She wanted him, too, but not for a husband. That tore his heart wide open. For despite his efforts to avoid it, he’d again fallen in love with a woman who could not or would not acknowledge him.
She’d marry, but not to him. She’d have children and they wouldn’t be his. That was the one fence he could not jump.
Lena finished a painting of a flock of turkey vultures on a bluff. He sat close enough to watch her work, but far enough back that he could not smell her floral fragrance. The scent of roses was now forever linked with images of Lena.
“Do you have enough paintings now, you think?”
She paused in midstroke as if frozen by his question. Slowly she lowered her brush and turned to face him. Apprehension flashed in her eyes as she gnawed her bottom lip between white teeth. That adorable mouth sank with her frown.
His stomach clenched at the quickfire jolt of lust that hit him each time he studied her mouth. Would he ever taste her lips again? Yes, he decided. He would not let her go without a kiss.
But then he would let her go, she to her world, he to his.
“Why do you ask?”
“Summer’s dying, Lena. Time to head back.”
Her chin dropped to her chest. “You’ve been bringing us back for days and days now.”
So, she did know and had said nothing.
“You got your wolf and buffalo. Hell, you even got a bear and a lynx.”
“I only painted the bear from memory.”
“Good likeness.”
She favored him with a sad smile. “Will you be glad to be rid of me?”
He’d be glad to be rid of the pain that came every time he looked at her. But he doubted it would leave him when she did. Likely it would only get worse.
“I don’t think I’ll ever be rid of you.”
Her brush dangled from distracted fingers. “I wish there was some way.”
“There is.”
She did not move except to speak. “How?”
“You’d have to run off with me. Leave your family. I’ll take you to the Rockies or the Pacific. It’s a big territory. Easy to get lost.”
She sank to her knees, nearly disappearing in the tall yellow grass. “Yes, I’d thought of that.”
“Could you live knowing that you deceived them, that you broke your word and ran off with a man beneath you?” He hated himself for suggesting it. She deserved better than lies. But his desperation made him reckless.
She stared off into space. “Not beneath me.”
“There wouldn’t be no maids or servants. Not ever. You’d have to learn to do for yourself.”
“Troy, are you offering to marry me?”
He yanked a blade of grass and chewed the sweet end. “I am. But I want what’s best for you and I don’t think I’m it.”
“My father deserves an heir.”
“Why?”
She gaped at him. “It’s my duty.”
“If you say so.”
“You disapprove.”
“Do they think you no better than a breeding stock? It sends a chill down my spine. You deserve some happiness.”
“A daughter should be obedient and marry as her parents wish.”
“Well you ain’t obedient or you wouldn’t be sitting out here in the prairie grass talking to me.”
“All the more reason to return.”
“That’s fine. When your mare has her foal you can think of me and be glad you didn’t taint your bloodline.”
Her chin dropped and he heard her crying. Why was he so cruel? This mess wasn’t her fault. Oh, but it was. She came here and invaded his world. She’d stalked him like a panther and he’d fallen in love with her. Damn her for dangling a prize before him only to snatch it back.
“You shouldn’t have come to this wild place.” He stared at her, relaying his intentions.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He took a step forward and she rose to her feet, senses alert like an antelope the instant before flight. All the days and nights without her crashed in upon him and now he stalked her.
“Troy, stop.”
She turned to flee and made it only three steps before he captured her, molding her backside to his loins. He swept away the proper little curls of her ridiculous hairstyle and grazed his teeth along her neck, holding her tight to his chest.
He registered her gasp as his hand scaled the armor of her corset to cup the soft flesh of her breast.
“What are you doing?”
“Exactly what you want me to do. When you’re lying in your clean sheets with another man, you can think back on this.”
He scored her neck with his teeth. She shuddered and arched back, giving him access to the long column of her throat. He captured the soft lobe of her ear and sucked.
She stilled, trembling now, resting her head against his shoulder.
He skimmed a hand up her throat to her cheek. It was then he felt her tears.
He stumbled back as if struck.
What had he done?
“Lena?” He reached for her, grasping her delicate arm. “Lena, forgive me.”
She turned to him, weeping, and he dragged her into his arms.
“I never meant to hurt you.” He froze then, kn
owing it for a lie. She made it known she was too good for him, wounded him to the heart. He wanted to hurt her, too. He thought he might vomit from self-loathing. She was right. He was no better than an animal.
She spoke to him. He tried to make out her words past the choking sobs. “I—I want you, t-too. Oh, God help me, but I would not have stopped you. What have I become?”
He held her close as his heart bled with regret and shame. “It’s my fault, Lena. I don’t deserve you.” He cradled her in his arms and they rocked together.
“I love you, Troy, with all my heart. But I love my parents, too. I can’t break their hearts to save mine.”
“I’m taking you back. You have to go home.”
They held each other, tears mingled and dried in the warm prairie winds.
He lifted his head and inhaled, then straightened. Smoke—why had he not noticed sooner? Listening now, he heard no bird song.
Lena stirred beside him. “What is it?”
He stared. She blushed and he shook his head.
“Something’s wrong.”
It took only a moment to spot the menace.
“What?” she asked, turning in the direction he stared.
“Wildfire. We got to cross the river and pray the water stops her.”
“Fire?” She drew her hands to her mouth. “Look at the smoke.”
Black as soot and stretching a half mile, the wall of smoke rose hundreds of feet into the sky. By the time he had the animals packed and saddled, ash fell about them like snowflakes.
“Have you seen this before?” she asked.
“No. But I’ve heard tell. Saddle up.”
He led them to the river and glanced back, recalling her last experience fording water.
“Want to ride with me?” he asked.
She shook her head, revealing the mess he’d made of her hair. “I shall hold tight.”
Lena turned back to watch the smoke, already feeling it thick in the air, burning the back of her throat.
He kicked his stallion and the beast waded into the river. Her mare followed with no fuss, seeming to sense their peril. Lena clutched the saddle as Scheherazade’s hooves left the river bottom and she began her lunging stroke. Lena’s skirts dragged in the water, tugging as the river tried to take her. At last they scaled the bank and she could breath again, coughing now.
