Tray swallowed a smile. “In a way it does, Aly. Sometimes a special animal or place or—” he raised her hand to his lips, kissing it gently “—person makes you feel that way.”
She laughed softly, closing her eyes. “Oh, I wish it could last forever!”
“It can, Aly,” he promised her quietly. “It can last forever, believe me.”
Wonder glowed in her eyes. “You’ve taught me so much, Tray.”
“No less than you’ve taught me,” he replied, his eyes bright.
“Look at us,” she sniffed, dashing the tears from her eyes, “we even cry together.”
“That’s the kind of thing you share with another, Aly, when you feel as we do.”
“I want to do something other than cry, Tray. I’ve shed enough tears these last few months to last my lifetime. I want to smile and laugh.”
“And so you shall,” he promised. “You’ve come out of the darkness and now the sunshine awaits you.”
Alyssa gave him a humorous look and pointed toward the window. “It’s still raining!”
“It’ll be clear and bright tomorrow.”
Chapter Thirteen
The week passed quickly, the weather turning unexpectedly warm and the sunshine drying up the mud in the pastures used for the flocks. Every day, Alyssa discovered, was more achingly beautiful than the last. She rode in Tray’s arms atop Rasheed between the three flocks, content to share kisses that scorched her body with a new longing and left her hungering for more. Their laughter was infectious, and their feeding and caring for the baby lambs together only welded them more closely to each other.
Master Taffy had asked them to go up to a place where more wild dogs had scattered the flock. Alyssa mounted her small black Welsh cob and they spent another two hours riding together toward that lonely, desolate area. They met two weary shepherds with several lambs resting across their saddles on the way up to the hut.
“Lord Trayhern, we found two more ewes up there by that waterfall. Too close to lambing to move.”
Tray nodded, sitting relaxed on Rasheed, his hand resting on the blood bay’s rump. “All right, tell Master Taffy we’ll find them. If they’ve birthed, we’ll bring them down this evening.”
“One might, but the other looks like her teats aren’t waxed up yet. Might mean you leavin’ her behind. She looks like she’s holdin’ twins and probably won’t birth till the morrow.”
Tray nodded, pursing his lips. “We’ll see what can be done, Drew. You’ve done a good job.”
As they neared the waterfall an hour later, Alyssa spotted the ewes. “Oh, Tray, look!” She spurred her cob into a gallop. There, standing on very unsure legs, was a black lamb with his exhausted mother. The other ewe was huge but hadn’t birthed yet.
Alyssa dismounted in one fluid motion and walked quickly up to the little black lamb. Her eyes saddened as she knelt down near the bleating baby. His front right leg hung brokenly as he lifted it off the ground, wobbling unsteadily on the other three. “Oh, you poor youngling,” she crooned, reaching out and drawing him into the cradle of her arms. Examining the broken leg, Alyssa bit down on her lip as Tray approached. He hunkered down beside her, a scowl on his brow.
“He’s a runt,” Tray growled. “Got everything going against him, Aly—he’s black, stunted in growth, and it looks like his mother probably rolled over on him after he was born and broke his leg.” He slowly got to his feet and unsheathed the knife he carried at the back of his belt. Alyssa stared horrified at Tray as the blade glinted dully in the sunlight.
“What are you going to do?”
“Cut his throat. He’ll die, Aly,” Tray told her gruffly, kneeling down next to her. “His mother won’t feed him because he’s injured.”
Tears stung her eyes and she shielded the black lamb. “Let me try! Sometimes they won’t reject them.”
He gave her a patient look. “It won’t work.”
“Let me try!” With that, she picked up the lamb and carried it over to the mother. The moment she put the baby down by the mother’s nose the ewe lowered her head, gave a bawling bleat and rammed the baby. The black lamb tumbled end over end, and Alyssa gave a short cry, coming to the struggling baby’s rescue, sweeping him back up into her arms. She turned to Tray, her face distraught.
“Let me kill him, Aly. He won’t live. Not with a broken leg,” Tray pleaded quietly, coming over to her.
She was crying, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks as she gave him a mutinous look. “No!”
“Do you think I want to kill him?” he asked impatiently.
Alyssa hugged the lamb carefully to her breast. “From the way you’re behaving, yes! You won’t even give him a chance! You won’t even try to think of another way to help him!”
Tray combed his fingers through his hair. “God’s blood! There is no way to help him. My men don’t have time to play nursemaid to him, Aly. Sure, he could be milked by hand, but he’s got a broken leg! No one can do anything about that. Even if he did survive, he’d get eaten by a wild dog because he couldn’t keep up with the rest of the flock.” Tray lowered his voice, her sad expression tearing at his heart. “Please, little one, try to understand. Let me put him out of his misery. He’s crippled and of no use to anyone. Don’t you see? You’re just prolonging his agony by trying to keep him alive.”
With a cry, Alyssa turned away from him and walked a few feet. She whirled around, her face etched with anguish. “I once had a lamb on the farm that had a broken leg,” she cried, “and I wrapped it up. My father told me the same thing, that it would die eventually. But I fed it and kept its leg supported and it lived, Tray. It lived! Please, let me try to wrap its leg…let me try to save it….”
“Damn it, it’s a cripple, Alyssa!” he thundered, walking toward her with the knife.
“Well, so are you!”
He halted, as if struck, all the color draining from his face as he stared at her.
“You’re crippled,” she sobbed, “and no one slit your throat. Sorche loved you and cared for you even though your father didn’t want you. She as much as wrapped your leg and tended you, Tray.” Tears blurred Alyssa’s vision and she choked on several sobs. “Crippled doesn’t mean useless, don’t you see that?” she went on rawly. “You aren’t useless. And neither is this lamb, as long as you let it be tended like you were. I have the time, Tray. I know the baby will take work, but I want to do that. I don’t believe he’ll die or be worthless just because he’s crippled.”
Tray lowered the knife, his mouth tightening to stem his emotions. He sheathed the weapon and slowly walked up to her. “Stop crying.” He started to slide his hands around the lamb and she shrank back from him, her eyes large and shadowed. “Let me have him. How can you mount your horse?”
She opened her arms, allowing Tray to take the lamb. His hands were so large that they almost swallowed up the black runt as he gently handled him. Her lashes were matted with spent tears as she lifted her eyes to meet his tortured gray ones. “I love you,” she said tremulously, and then turned away to mount the cob.
Tray’s face was dark and unreadable as he carefully placed the runt back into her arms. “Go down to the cottage and get a fire started.”
Alyssa picked up the reins, feeling suddenly drained. “What about you?” she asked tonelessly.
Tray looked at the other ewe. “I’ll bring the runt’s mother along. Between the two of us, we ought to be able to hold her still while he gets a meal or two. That other ewe will probably birth tomorrow morning and I see no reason to leave her out here as prey for wild dogs. We’ve got the time to wait on her. We’re not needed that badly down below.” He put his hand on her thigh, giving her a small squeeze of reassurance. “We’ll stay here tonight. You go on. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Alyssa knew she had hurt Tray badly. The next two hours were sheer agony for her as they wrestled the ewe to immobility so that the runt could suckle. Afterward Alyssa bound his leg so that it could heal. She avoid
ed Tray’s charcoal gray eyes, her stomach twisting each time she accidentally met his gaze. Fighting back tears, Alyssa made the runt a bed of straw and placed him in a box near the hearth to keep him warm until his next feeding. She busied herself with rebuilding the fire and placing a kettle of mutton stew over the coals. Tray disappeared for about an hour after that and the pain in Alyssa’s heart increased. She wanted to apologize to Tray, but he gave her no quarter to do so. As night fell, he finally came back to the cottage. After feeding the runt again, she ladled out a bowl of stew and handed it to Tray. He took it, saying nothing and going over to the straw that had served him as a bed a week earlier.
Miserably, Alyssa forced herself to nibble at bits of the stew, the silence growing more and more strained between them. The night was inky, broken only by the light of the embers of glowing coals in the fireplace. Her heart was beating like a bird that had been captured, and Alyssa pushed herself upward, running her damp hands down the length of her thighs. She turned, pinned by Tray’s unreadable gray eyes. Mouth dry, Alyssa forced herself to go to him as he lay on his side in the straw. Kneeling before him with her head bowed, the sheets of her auburn hair hiding her features, she began to speak in a low, strained voice.
“I had no right to call you a cripple, Tray, and I’m sorry.” Her hands fluttered helplessly to emphasize her words. “I, of all people, have no right to say something like that. I’m not whole myself. I’m less a woman than—”
“No!” he snarled, gripping her by the arms, giving her a little shake. His eyes were nearly colorless as he stared at her, and when he spoke, his voice was deep and trembling. “You had every right! Every right, Alyssa. It’s you. I’m forgetting that you don’t see my deformity. In your wonderful world, cripples exist alongside whole men. You act as if there’s nothing wrong with me and so, when I tried to take that lamb’s life, you rebelled.”
Tears scalded her eyes and Alyssa stared numbly up into his troubled features. “Oh, Tray, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I saw the pain in your eyes when I screamed at you. I only wanted you to trust me enough to work with the lamb. All he needs is a little love and attention. That’s all….” She pressed her hands against her heart, fearing it would break.
He blinked back his own tears, his hands sliding upward to cup her face. “That’s all?” he whispered rawly. “Do you know how much you willingly give me, Sean, that lamb and everyone else? No, I don’t suppose you do.” He groaned, shutting his eyes tightly and pulling her roughly to him, crushing her in his arms. “God, Aly, I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you,” he rasped. “I’m angry with myself! What right do I have to pass judgment on anyone or anything? Especially another injured human being or animal? My God, I’ve become so hardened because of my deformity.” He drew in a tortured breath, his eyes red-rimmed as he stared off into the darkness, holding her tightly in his arms. “In your unselfishness to save the lamb, you reminded me to take stock of myself. I’ve lived in a shell for so long and been so alone.”
Her fingers moved upward, pressing gently against his cheek, touching his tears. “We’re both crippled,” she whispered, “you physically, me emotionally. Don’t you see, Tray? There is no one who is perfect or whole. Your weakness is readily seen, mine is not, until you try to love me and then…then all that fear comes screaming back at me, and I know I cannot please you as a woman should her man.”
“No,” Tray said raggedly, kissing her eyes, nose and finally her lips, softening them, taking away her pain. “That’s not true, Aly. Yes, we’re all crippled, little one. But if I can force myself to do the work of a man with two good feet, then you can overcome your fear and be all of the woman I see in you.”
Blindly, Alyssa moved forward, her arms sliding up his chest. “Take away my fear, Tray…please, I ache so much. I love you, and I’m so afraid I can never make you happy. Help me, Tray. I know you won’t hurt me, beloved. Oh, please…” she whispered against his lips, pressing hungry kisses against his mouth. “Prove to me that I’m not as crippled as I feel now….”
A groan tore from deep within him, a powerful shudder working its way up through his body as he tried to resist her plea. God, they were not married yet. If he did love her thoroughly, would this day be a black mark against them? What if he hurt her? If he couldn’t please her? Tray’s hands trembled as he pulled her away from him, trying to avoid the warm, seeking lips that threatened to dissolve his control. “Aly, Aly…what if I do hurt you? I’m a man, like any other—”
“No, you won’t hurt me. I know you won’t. I saw how gently you handled that lamb.” She drew back, her hands linked behind his neck, her eyes misted with tears. “Handle me with such love, Tray, and you cannot possibly hurt me.” Leaning forward, Alyssa placed her lips inexpertly against his mouth, trying to crumble his tremulous barriers with each touch of her body against his.
Her childlike trust matched with her courage and vulnerability destroyed Tray’s every hesitation. Gently, he drew her down, down into his arms, her hair lying like a dark wine halo about her beautiful features. “All right,” he whispered hoarsely, “I’ll love you, Aly.” His fingers trembled as he caressed her cheek, and he drowned within her wide emerald eyes, lost in the explosive heat kindled between them. “But, sweet God in heaven, if I hurt you, I’ll never forgive myself. I’ll only have made you that much more fearful of—”
She placed her fingers against his lips. “I trust you.”
He gripped her hand, kissing it hard and then pressing it against his stubbled cheek, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m not an expert lover, Aly. I’ve had a few women in my life. I’ve made mistakes, but I’ll try not to make the same mistakes with you. You, of all women, don’t deserve my fumbling attempts to—”
Alyssa’s fingers brushed against his mouth. “But I love you, as you love me. We’ll guide each other with our love, Tray.” Her lips parted in unconscious provocation, full and begging him to worship them.
His fingers trembled as he lightly touched her hair. Reaching up, Alyssa pulled him down upon her, the weight of his body satisfying against hers as he cupped her chin, drawing her lips to his own. The instant their mouths touched, a storm of longing exploded violently to life between them. Each time his lips nipped and teased her earlobe, the slender cords of her neck or her collarbone, she reacted out of pure desire. Tray placed moist kisses between her taut breasts as he eased the shirt from her body, pushing it aside. A cry of pleasure came from deep in her throat as his mouth closed lovingly over the first, erect nipple. Pulses of pleasure spiraled within her, sending a pulling, fiery feeling to the very core of her womanhood. His sure hand slid down her rib cage and he patiently freed the buttons on her baggy, ill-fitting breeches.
“Lovely,” he breathed softly against her lips, “you’re so lovely, sweet Aly. Such beautiful, small breasts, pink-tipped with inexperience, like honey to suckle….” His lips closed over one, drawing it deep within his heated mouth, and she cried out in exquisite pleasure, arching against his hard male body, her fingers digging convulsively into his back. She was mindless, feeling, reacting, her heart beating in rapid unison with his own. The breeches slid off her narrow hips and she felt her nerves leap as his palm lightly brushed her auburn triangle. A gasp escaped her lips, and her breathing came in little sobs as he gently eased his calloused hand between her beautifully curved thighs. She was damp and more than ready for him but he made no move to touch her. Not yet…
Tray felt her begin to tense as his hand eased her thighs apart, and he leaned down, gently teething her nipple, assured that she reacted strongly and positively to his worship. Without realizing it, Alyssa arched to him, her swollen core grazing the heel of his hand. His breath choked off as he felt her tremble from the contact. Did it remind her of the rape, of the brutal invasion of her lovely, small body? A mewing cry slipped from her parted lips, and Tray felt her move against his hand again. Relief flowed through him and he released his withheld breath.
“Good, good, sweet Aly
…yes, that’s it, feel the pleasure I can give you. Rub against me, little one…all you want,” he whispered against her wet, soft lips.
Tremors shot through her and she trembled violently, clenching and unclenching her fingers against Tray’s back. She moved against him, her body straining, a fine sheen of perspiration covering her. And then, she felt his further exploration of her, and a cry tore from her lips. Pleasure stroked her like molten fire, and she lost all control, mindlessly floating, pushing, needing, until an explosion, violent and sudden, shattered her. She stiffened against Tray, clinging tightly as he brought her to a quaking, all-consuming climax. How long she lay panting in his arms, her head thrown back, tendrils of hair damp and clinging to her face, she did not know. For a moment, Alyssa felt Tray leave her, but she was too weakened, too oblivious in her euphoria, to make a verbal protest.
When he came back to lie at her side, she felt the dry warmth of his naked flesh. She barely had the strength to open her eyes, and when she did, she drowned in the gray depths of his tender gaze. Tray swept the dampened tendrils from her temples, leaning down, kissing her with great gentleness.
“Did you enjoy it, little one?”
Alyssa closed her eyes, barely nodding her head. “It was—wonderful….”
“That’s just the beginning of our night together, Aly,” he promised thickly, claiming her nipple between his lips. Immediately, the peak hardened in the heat of his mouth and he felt her arching against him. “Good,” he praised, allowing her to feel the hard curve of his maleness as she pressed against him. Almost instantly, she shrank back, but he placed his hand against her hip, slowly bringing her back up against him.
“It can’t hurt you, Aly,” he told her, his gaze probing her suddenly frightened eyes.
She swallowed painfully. “But, it’s so hard….”
Lord of Shadowhawk Page 18
