Three days later Harmony was panning again, but she had strict orders not to work more than three or four hours. Buck began a search for the grizzly, for he suspected it was still in the area and would probably come back. He wouldn’t feel right going back until he’d taken care of that bear. He didn’t want a repeat of Harmony’s last experience with the animal. Her condition when he’d found her, and her ensuing sickness, had been harder on him than Harmony realized. If only she knew how much he loved her. If only she knew he’d prayed for her, even wept once when he was sure she wouldn’t make it. But it would do no good to tell her those things. She’d probably think he was making them up. In spite of all he’d told her about himself so she would learn that they were very much alike, he hadn’t gotten through to her. She was still stubborn and independent, still determined to work her claim and be her own woman, still convinced she wanted no man sexually, wanted nothing to do with marriage or anything that involved trust and dependency. The only way he could bear being around her and not having her was to go off on these hunts, to pass the time keeping as busy as possible.
For the fifth day in a row he sat quietly at the mouth of the creek, where Harmony told him she’d first seen the bear. The waters were heavy with trout. The grizzly would come back, he was certain of that. He kept his rifle loaded and cocked, waiting. Later that morning, his perseverance and patience finally paid off. His daydreams of Harmony were interrupted by a loud splashing that came to his ears above the roar of the foaming waters. He heard a grunting sound.
Immediately all his instincts were alert. For a moment he crouched behind the huge boulder on which he’d been sitting, out of sight of the rushing waters. Then he crept around the rock to see a huge grizzly slapping at the water, catching fish in its great paws and chomping on them eagerly. Buck shivered at the size of the bear. No wonder her night of terror had nearly made Harmony lose her mind. How the cabin door had held back such a monster he could not imagine. Perhaps the animal hadn’t realized that if he pushed against it he could have bashed it open. Thank God all he’d done was claw at it. And thank God he’d been too big to get through the window. If he had gotten to Harmony…
Buck crouched on one knee and raised the rifle. This monster would not go down with one bullet, that was certain. He’d have to hit it two or three times before it would give up, and he’d better make the shots count, get them in the right places. Nothing on earth was more vicious than a wounded grizzly, and this one was vicious enough as it was. He took quiet aim, his heart pounding, beads of sweat on his forehead. Then he squeezed the trigger. The gun went off and the bear roared and fell backward. Buck had aimed for the head, but he couldn’t be certain he’d hit what he’d aimed for. Nonetheless, he’d hit the huge creature.
He cocked the rifle and aimed again, as the bear rolled onto its four paws, roaring and groaning. He fired, this time hitting it in the side of the head. Again the bear howled and fell. It lay panting and clawing at the ground. Buck walked toward it. If he could get two or three more shots into the head while it was temporarily stunned, he’d have it.
At the cabin Harmony jumped at the sounds of rifle fire. “Buck!” she whispered. Despite the distance, she could hear the bear’s horrible roar. There was no mistaking the sound. It seemed to echo over the mountainside. Her night of terror returned. She could see the huge claws, the white fangs; hear the horrible growling, smell the putrid stench. “Buck!” she whimpered. She could not believe anyone or anything could kill such a monster. Was it attacking Buck right now, mauling him, murdering him, chewing him up like a huge fish? Would it come for her?
There had been two shots. Now three more were fired, and her heart pounded. Was it chasing him? Perhaps he had missed and only angered the bear. She could hear more growling and roaring. Another shot. Her breathing quickened, and she ran for the steps, picking up her own rifle. She climbed up the stairs, intending to go inside the cabin for protection. Buck had nailed split logs over the window opening, so there was no longer a window for the bear to get through. But now, when the door was closed, the cabin was almost completely dark. A lamp had to be lit during the day, or the door had to be left open for light. Still, she would rather have it that way. She felt safer.
She considered going to Buck. He might need her. Perhaps he was bleeding to death. She waited for what seemed an eternity. The growling had stopped. Was it because the bear was busily eating Buck Hanner?
Then he appeared, walking up the path, carrying his rifle. He looked up at her, a grin on his face. “How about some bear meat tonight?” he called out. “It’s pretty good. ’Course he’s an old, tough one, so I can’t guarantee the flavor.”
“Buck!” She set her rifle aside and ran to him, hugging him tightly, surprising him by her obvious concern. He eagerly embraced her, wondering if he could hope that perhaps she was beginning to love him the way a woman should love a man.
“Well! Remind me to go shoot a grizzly every day if I get this for it.”
“Oh, Buck, don’t joke!” she wailed. “I was afraid for you! I was going to come down and see if you needed help! I thought the bear had attacked you and was eating you!”
He laughed lightly, patting her shoulder. “Bears often kill people in anger or what they think is self-defense, Shortcake. But they don’t eat them! They’d rather have fish or berries.” He gave her a squeeze. “Your worries about that ornery bastard are over. I’m going to gut him and bring back some of the meat. Tonight we’ll celebrate. We’ll roast some bear meat and we’ll have the ultimate celebration of the conquerors—we’ll eat the enemy!” He laughed, and with his arm around her, he walked toward the cabin. “Maybe we’ll even break out a little whiskey. If you’re going to work like a man and live like a man and be independent like one, you’ve got to learn to drink like a man, Harmony Jones. Tonight you will share some whiskey with me.”
She frowned, feeling suspicious again. She stopped walking. “You know I don’t like whiskey,” she declared.
He pushed back his hat. “Listen, Harmony Jones. Do you know what it took for me to stalk and shoot that damned thing? It isn’t exactly something I’d like to do every day. I’ve been through hell for you since I got back up here, and most likely I’ve saved your life. Can’t you even share one drink with this good friend who nursed you, taught you everything you know, and killed a grizzly for you? What do I have to do to get one ounce of fun and laughter and relaxed friendship out of you?”
She studied his unnerving blue eyes. “All right. I guess I owe you a celebration. You deserve it. But don’t expect me to drink as much as you probably can.”
He gave her a wink. “Just one,” he replied, going inside to find a bigger knife than the one he carried on his belt.
Harmony shrugged and went back to the sluice, a little apprehensive, for she knew what whiskey sometimes did to men. She remembered smelling it on Jimmie’s breath the night he’d attacked her. But that was Jimmie, not Buck Hanner. Buck would not hurt her.
Never in her whole life had Harmony Jones felt so gloriously happy. The first drink of whiskey had gone down hard, but moments later she’d felt a marvelous warmth, and everything Buck had said seemed funny. She felt delightfully free and relaxed, and she was sure she could do anything. She had survived up here for over two months. She would survive the winter. She took another drink, for she loved the way it made her feel. She had had no idea it could do this to a person, remove the fear and gloom that shadowed her life.
She stuffed herself with bear meat, then drank more, laughing meanwhile at Buck’s stories. She was oblivious to the fact that he, too, was feeling his whiskey, that he was looking at her with a painful longing, listening to her laughter, wanting her as he’d never wanted her before. Her hair was unbraided, and hung loose and flowing over her shoulders. She had put on a dress, announcing that if they were going to “wine and dine” she should dress for it.
Harmony paid no attention to the fact that he moved closer, and when he told more stories h
is arm was around her shoulders. They sat outside, roasting the bear meat over an open fire. It was a pretty night, quiet and silky, with a million stars overhead. For two hours they had sat, drinking and eating until Harmony felt giddy and dizzy. Her head often lolled against Buck’s shoulder, and he wrestled with his conscience. He’d never gotten her drunk. Perhaps he should have tried this a long time ago. In his own condition, his protective instincts were not operative. The whiskey only heightened his desire for her, removing all thought of what was right and wrong, awakening only his burning need to have her.
“Oh, Buck, I’m so glad that bear didn’t get you,” she was saying. “I was so afraid for you.”
She looked up at him. How handsome he was in the moonlight! In the next moment his lips were covering hers, and for some strange reason she did not want to stop him this time. The kiss tasted good. She was happy…and she was curious. All the womanly things he had awakened in her were brought to the surface by the whiskey. She was on the brink of changing from a girl to a woman. Her feelings were awakened, and her eager young soul yearned to discover man. Hadn’t Buck promised it could be good? Surely it wasn’t always the way it had been with that terrible Jimmie! She felt silly and daring. Was it the whiskey? She couldn’t think straight. She returned his kiss with newly awakened passion, wanting suddenly to see if she could be a woman, feeling almost challenged to prove she was not a little girl.
Yet down inside her a voice tried to warn her that this was wrong. Her deep-seated fears reasoned that this man was only taking advantage of her, that he would desert her like everyone else she had ever cared about. He was breaking her down!
“No,” she mumbled the word between passionate kisses. She meant it, yet she could not seem to make herself push him away. She wanted to fight him, but his tongue moved in the most enticing way between her lips. What was this he was doing? Why did it make her feel so weak? She tried to pull away, but his mouth would not leave hers, and a gentle hand moved from her waist to one of her breasts, gently squeezing and massaging it. Fire swept through her blood. That wasn’t the way Jimmie had touched her. It didn’t repulse her at all. It only made her breathing quicken, her heart pound furiously! What had he done to her? What was this magic? Was it his touch, or just the whiskey—or both?
“Buck, please don’t,” she whispered, as his lips moved to her throat. Yet the words sounded pitifully weak.
“Why not?” he answered, his voice husky with desire. “I love you, Harmony. I’ve never loved anybody so much in my life. And I want you. God, I want you, Harmony!”
“No. Don’t say that.”
But he was already picking her up and carrying her toward the cabin. She rested her head on his shoulder, her arms about his neck. Somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind she knew what he intended to do, yet the womanly curiosity he had aroused would not permit her to fight him.
They were inside the cabin then, and he was kicking the door shut. She felt herself being laid on the bed. Her head swam. She wished she could think straight. He lit the lantern, keeping the flame low. Then he came and stood near her, unbuttoning his shirt. Why did she watch? Why did she want to see him? Why was she doing any of this?
“I want you, Harmony, and I’m going to have you,” he told her, removing his shirt. “There will be no more arguing about it. You need a man, and I’m it. I’m the only man who’s ever going to touch you.”
He threw down the shirt and loosened his gun belt, then his belt. He removed both, then his boots. He unbuttoned his pants and pulled them off, then he removed his long Johns. She felt giddy and afraid and curious, passionate yet childish and confused. He stood in front of her for a moment, and she drank in the glorious man who was Buck Hanner. She had thought a man would look ugly. But he looked beautiful, like a finely bred stallion.
He sat down on the bed beside her, then leaned over her. “Now you’ve seen man, and soon you’ll experience man,” he told her. His lips came down over her mouth again, and an almost painful desire swept through her. She heard someone whimpering. Was it her own voice? Was it she who was returning his kiss with such hunger and such a sudden rush of curious passion?
Gentle! So gentle he was! She knew her clothing was coming off, yet it seemed that it was happening by magic. Buck! This was Buck, her friend, her guide, her protector. He was so sweet and kind, always so patient. And he had said he loved her, hadn’t he? How long did she think she could go on without once being a woman? And was there a nicer man to show her than Buck? He wouldn’t hurt her, not Buck. Gentle hands massaged her virgin breasts, and she could not help crying out when his tongue toyed with nipples that had never before greeted man. Then his fingers moved over her bare hips, caressing her slender thighs, moving between them. Why couldn’t she stop him? Why didn’t she want to stop him?
He tasted her sweet, full breasts, groaning with hunger, while his fingers worked their way into the silken, moist softness that lay in that secret place never before touched by a man. She cried out his name, fanning the fire of his passion. Harmony! This was Harmony, not some two-bit whore! This was Harmony Jones, the beautiful little girl that he loved beyond all reasoning. How long he had dreamed of having her. Was this really happening, or was he still dreaming? If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.
His breathing was quick, his body heated, his nerve endings were on fire. He moved his lips down over her flat belly, lightly kissing the golden hairs that surrounded the most womanly part of her. When he explored it with his fingers, she cried out and arched upward, and he knew she was responding passionately for the first time—and she was ready for him.
He moved on top of her, smothering her with kisses, kissing her mouth, her eyes, her cheeks, her throat, her shoulders, her breasts, and then returning to her mouth; priming her, building her desire so his first thrust would not be too painful. He was glad she was full of whiskey. It wouldn’t hurt as much that way. He did not want to hurt this small woman he loved so, yet he must. She even wanted him to do it.
He smoothed the hair back from her face. “Harmony, my Harmony. I love you so much,” he whispered.
“Buck, I don’t know what’s happening. I…it feels so good.”
“Of course it feels good. You’re just enjoying a man, that’s all—the man you love, whether you know it yet or not.” He moved on top of her, pushing her legs apart with his own knees.
“Don’t hurt me!” she whimpered, fear now showing in her eyes.
“Hey, Shortcake, this is Buck, remember? Have I ever hurt you?”
Their eyes held. “I shouldn’t be…doing this. I don’t know what happened.”
He held her with his hypnotic eyes—beautiful eyes, too beautiful to belong to a man. “Do you want me to stop?”
As he pressed his hardness against her belly, she swallowed, torn between fear and terrible desire. “No,” she whispered.
His mouth met hers again, tenderly, so tenderly. Then he moved slightly, and pain suddenly shot through her loins. She cried out and dug her fingers into the hard muscle of his arms. There was no stopping it now.
“Hang on, baby,” he whispered. He moaned with the want of her, the glory of taking her—finally. He thrust deep, even though he hadn’t meant to. Now there were tears in her eyes, yet she didn’t seem afraid. Determined was more like it. She wanted this. She finally wanted it, and she was determined to do it right, just as she had been about everything else.
He reached under her hips and pushed her up to him, moving gently in her to ease her pain. In moments it was over, but Buck’s ecstasy was not. He moved off her, his body sweating, his breathing hard, his heart gloriously satisfied. He ran a big hand over her belly.
“Did it hurt bad, Shortcake?” he asked, kissing her neck.
“Not so bad. I…I don’t know. I can’t tell. I feel so…dizzy…so strange.”
“It’s just the whiskey. It’s better this way—less pain. I just hope I didn’t do any damage.”
She met his eyes, reachin
g up and touching his handsome, tanned face. “I want to do it again,” she told him, her blood still hot with whiskey and newly awakened desire. “Can we do it again?”
He grinned. “Again and again. All night long. I’ll never be able to get enough of you.” His lips covered hers then, and passion swept through her.
“Oh, Buck, I think I love you,” she whispered.
“And I love you—every inch of you,” he answered, his lips moving to her breasts again. “By morning I’ll have seen every inch of you, tasted every part of you. You’ll belong to Buck Hanner body and soul.”
Buck awoke to cold water on his face. He jerked away, sat up slightly, and shook his head, which screamed with a hangover. Then he opened his eyes to see Harmony sitting nearby on a log, her rifle pointed right at him, her cheeks stained with tears.
“What the hell?” he muttered.
“You get out of here, Buck Hanner!” she ordered, her voice shaking. “I hate you! I’ll hate you the rest of my life for what you did!”
He sat up straighter. “What I did? What the hell are you talking about?”
Her lips quivered and more tears spilled down her cheeks. “You know what I’m talking about! You took advantage of me! You got me drunk on purpose, then raped me!”
His eyes narrowed with anger and disappointment. “Raped you!” He threw back the covers, not caring that he was naked. “I made love to you, Harmony Jones, because I’m in love with you! And you wanted it! Don’t deny it! So what if I used a little whiskey to make you see the light!”
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