"Then he is a fool," Cloud Walker said quietly.
Mary felt her cheeks grow warm under Cloud Walker's lingering gaze. There was no mistaking the caring in his eyes, the longing in his voice. She did not move as Cloud Walker slowly leaned forward, his lips touching hers in a kiss as soft and light as butterfly wings. In spite of the gentleness of his kiss, it affected Mary like a bolt of lightning, sending wave after wave of heat pulsing through her. Breathless, she placed her fingertips to her lips, stunned by the unexpected surge of desire that Cloud Walker's kiss had ignited. Frank's touch had never filled her with such turbulent emotions. His kisses had never made her blood turn to fire, or caused her insides to flutter wildly. She was stunned by a sudden desire to throw herself into Cloud Walker's arms, to feel his hands on her breasts and thighs, to feel his body lying close to her own. The intensity of her longing for him left her feeling confused and uncertain and a little frightened. But want him she did. Desperately.
Cloud Walker's feelings were much the same as Mary's. His dark eyes moved over her face, enchanted by the way the sun danced in her windblown hair, and by the way her eyes met his, looking shy and sensual at the same time. He longed to take her in his arms, to taste the honey of her lips one more time, to bury himself in her womanly sweetness. He gazed at her, his desire almost painful in its intensity, and saw that she wanted him as well. But he did not touch her. She was a married woman, and he had no right to want her, no right to touch her.
They gazed at each other for a full minute, their eyes speaking words they dared not utter aloud. Mary's heart was beating so hard she wondered if she might die; was certain she would die if Cloud Walker did not take her in his arms and ease the terrible hunger his one innocent kiss had aroused in her. Now she knew what her mother had meant by the pleasure a woman could receive in her husband's arms. Only Cloud Walker was not her husband. Shame washed over Mary, but she didn't care. She would gladly sacrifice everything for an hour in Cloud Walker's arms, to experience again the joy of his touch.
Abruptly, Cloud Walker stood up. He could not sit beside her any longer. Another moment and he would sweep her into his arms and bring shame on them both.
"We should go," he said.
"Yes," Mary agreed, extending her hands. "Will you help me up?"
Cloud Walker hesitated briefly before he took Mary's hands in his and pulled her to her feet. And now they were standing only inches apart. Mary did not let go of Cloud Walker's hands. She could feel him trembling slightly and as she looked up into the depths of his eyes, she knew why he trembled. He wanted her, and he was afraid. Afraid of hurting her, afraid of ruining her reputation. Afraid of being rejected.
Shamelessly, impulsively, Mary swayed toward Cloud Walker, testing her power over him. Her breasts brushed against his chest, and that brief contact was like striking a match to dry prairie grass.
Cloud Walker groaned low in his throat as he murmured her name. Did she know what she was doing to him? He whispered her name again, his mind in turmoil as he prayed to Maheo for strength to resist the delightful creature standing before him. He was only a man, after all, and she was so near, so beautiful.
Knowing it was wrong, Mary lifted her face for his kiss. She had to feel his lips on hers one more time, had to know if her response would be the same or if she had only imagined the ecstasy she had felt because she needed so badly to feel loved. Placing her hands on Cloud Walker's shoulders, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. And the same sweet wanting washed over her again.
With a cry that was as much pain as pleasure, Cloud Walker swept Mary into his arms and drew her body close to his own as he kissed her hungrily, passionately. His desire for the woman in his arms was a throbbing ache in his loins, a sweet torture from which he dared not seek relief.
Mary pressed closer to Cloud Walker, loving the way her body seemed to fit to his. She could feel his desire for her rising against her belly, and it filled her with joy. She knew suddenly what her mother and Vickie had been trying to tell her.
"Mary." Cloud Walker murmured her name reverently as his lips moved across her face.
"I know," Mary replied. "I feel it too."
Bodies pressed close, they kissed again, all else forgotten but the wonder of the love blossoming between them. Mary had never seen Frank fully naked in the harsh light of day, nor had she cared to, but now she yearned to see all of Cloud Walker. Dimly she wondered why Cloud Walker had the power to arouse her with a mere kiss when Frank's caresses had not, but she did not dwell on the matter. She was too caught up in the wonder of the new feelings coursing through her. It was as if her whole body had suddenly come alive, every fiber and nerve attuned to the touch of Cloud Walker's hands and lips.
Cloud Walker's kiss deepened as Mary pressed herself against him. His tongue slipped over her lips and tasted the hidden nectar of her mouth. Mary responded with a quick intake of breath. The blood pounded in her ears, and she had the odd sensation that she was floating in time and space, adrift in a world of wonder such as she had never imagined existed. She longed for nothing more than to have it last forever.
The sound of hoofbeats reached Cloud Walker's ears. Reluctantly, guiltily, he released his hold on Mary and stepped away as Shadow rode up.
For a moment Shadow just sat there, his eyes easily reading the guilt and desire in Cloud Walker's expression and the bright flush of shame in his daughter's cheeks.
"Hello, neyho," Mary said quietly.
"Go home," Shadow ordered sternly.
"No," Mary answered, defying her father for the first time in her life.
Cloud Walker's heart began to pound as Shadow slid effortlessly to the ground and stood before him. Mary's father had every right to be angry, he thought, discouraged, and wondered if Shadow would order him to leave Bear Valley immediately. Despair filled Cloud Walker's heart at the thought. He had grown to love this place almost as much as he loved Mary.
"What are your intentions toward my daughter?" Shadow demanded, his eyes boring into Cloud Walker's.
"I love her," Cloud Walker answered, his voice clear and proud.
"She is married to another."
Cloud Walker slid a glance in Mary's direction before returning his gaze to Shadow's face. "The marriage cannot last. Surely you know how unhappy she is."
"She is still a married woman. You have no right to interfere in her life so long as she is bound to another."
"You have no right to judge me," Mary blurted, not daring to meet her father's eyes. "You took my mother when she belonged to another man."
Shadow studied his daughter's face and saw the determination in her eyes even though she did not look at him. This was the first time she had dared argue with him, the first time she had not meekly obeyed his command.
"That was different," Shadow said at last. "Your mother and I had been married by Elk Dreamer long before she married Joshua Berdeen."
"That marriage was not legally binding," Mary retorted. "And you know it."
"I do not wish to argue about that now," Shadow said irritably. "Your mother was blackmailed into marrying Berdeen. No one forced you to marry Frank Smythe."
"I made a mistake," Mary said, meeting her father's eyes for the first time. "Must I pay for it the rest of my life?"
Shadow looked at Cloud Walker again. "You say you love my daughter. I forbid it."
"I cannot help the way I feel," Cloud Walker replied with a shake of his head. "She is kind and good and beautiful. She deserves a man who will treat her with love and respect, a man who will be proud of her, of what and who she is."
"And do you think you are that man?"
"Yes. I love her with all my heart."
Shadow looked skeptical. "You have only known each other for a short time."
"You said you knew, the minute you saw my mother, that she was the only woman for you," Mary argued boldly.
"Yes," Shadow remarked dryly. "But she was not a married woman at the time."
Cloud
Walker took Mary's hand in his. "The feelings are the same," he insisted.
Shadow nodded. How well he remembered the fire Hannah had stirred in his blood that day he had seen her near the river crossing. She had been wearing an old blue gingham dress. Her hair, as red as flame, had fallen in loose waves about her slender shoulders. Her eyes, ever a warm and lovely shade of gray, had returned his gaze shyly. He had known from that moment that no other woman, red or white, would ever hold his heart.
Shadow smiled faintly with the memory. Even now, some twenty-four years later, he felt the same.
"Do not shame my daughter," Shadow warned, fixing Cloud Walker with a hard stare. "Do not lie to her, or make promises you cannot keep. She has been hurt enough."
Cloud Walker nodded, his heart soaring with hope. "You do not disapprove then?"
"No. I think perhaps Maheo sent you here to ease the pain in Mary's heart."
"I will never do anything to bring shame to you or your family," Cloud Walker vowed fervently.
Shadow nodded, his gaze moving from Cloud Walker's face to Mary's. "Come, let us go home."
They met at the river crossing the following night. Cloud Walker arrived first, and paced the river bank restlessly back and forth along the water's edge, his heart and his mind eager to see her again. He whirled around at the sound of her footsteps, his heart swelling with emotion as she made her way toward him. She wore a simple yellow cotton dress. A multicolored shawl was wrapped around her shoulders to turn away the cold.
"Mary."
She walked straight into his arms, her lips parting slightly as she lifted her face for his kiss. Contentment washed over her as Cloud Walker's arms drew her near.
They stood together for a long time before Cloud Walker let Mary go. ''We must talk," he said.
"I know."
"I love you," Cloud Walker said gravely. "I know it is wrong, that you belong to another, but I cannot fight the feelings in my heart."
"It is the same with me," Mary confessed. "What are we going to do?"
"I do not know. Among our people, a woman simply places her husband's belongings out of their lodge when she wishes to end their marriage."
"I wish it could be that easy for us," Mary said. "I asked Frank for a divorce before I left Chicago, but he said no."
"Then we must wait until he says yes," Cloud Walker remarked ruefully.
"My parents didn't wait," Mary muttered under her breath.
"We will not make our love shameful," Cloud Walker said resolutely. "We will not sneak around as though what we feel for each other is wrong. I am a warrior, and a warrior does not defile the woman he loves. I will never do anything to cause you shame or hurt."
Mary nodded. He was right, of course. They must wait until she was free from Frank. It would be the hardest thing she had ever done.
They were together often after that night, but always in the company of others. Cloud Walker had vowed he would not touch Mary until he had a right to do so, but he did not trust himself to be alone with her. Good intentions often dissolved in the face of temptation, and Mary was all too tempting. He thought of her constantly, dreamed of her at night, and in those dreams he held her and loved her as he so longed to do. In his dreams she came to him, warm and willing, and he possessed her over and over again, never able to get his fill.
Shadow said little about the relationship between his daughter and Cloud Walker. He saw the heated looks that passed between them, the little touches, the secret smiles. They were much in love, he mused, but, like Hannah, he wondered if any good would come of it.
18
The cold breath of winter blew across the vast prairie. The trees, once bedecked with gloriously hued leaves of red and gold and orange, now stood bare beneath the cold gray sky. The river was often covered with a thin coat of ice. Blackie dug his sled out of the barn and spent hours riding down the snow-covered hills with his friends.
Our family spent a peaceful Thanksgiving at Pa's house. As I sat at a table that was nearly groaning beneath a load of food, I counted myself a lucky woman. Shadow sat at my left. As usual, he was clad in a buckskin shirt, pants, and moccasins. As usual, he looked handsome and virile, and as Pa asked a blessing on the food spread before us, I offered my own silent prayer of thanks to God for giving me a man like Shadow to love.
Hawk sat across from me. My son had changed since his arrest the year before. He was quieter now, more withdrawn. Victoria told me Hawk often rode alone into the hills to meditate. She said he only went to town when it was necessary, and that he was close-mouthed and aloof except around his family and a very few close friends.
Vickie sat on Hawk's right. Hawk had chosen well when he picked a wife. Victoria was a lovely young woman, a wonderful wife, a devoted mother. I loved her as though she were my own daughter.
Mary sat on Hawk's left, one of the twins on her lap, but she had eyes only for Cloud Walker. It was easy to see that Mary had fallen head over heels in love with the handsome young Cheyenne, and I worried about her. Mary was still Frank's wife, after all, and had no business looking at other men.
Blackie sat at my right, engaged in a lively conversation with Pa. Blackie was growing, changing. He was almost as tall as Shadow now, and more and more I was convinced that Blackie was indeed Shadow's son and not Joshua Berdeen's. With each passing year, Blackie looked more and more like Shadow.
Pa sat at the head of the table, Katherine cradled in one burly arm. Pa really had his hands full, I thought. He was talking to Blackie, trying to keep Katherine quiet, and eating all at the same time. I was terribly proud of my father. He was active in our community, holding a position on the town council and on the school board as well. He was a good husband, a wonderful father, a doting grandfather.
Rebecca sat at the opposite end of the table across from Pa. Jacob was perched on her lap, eating off her plate with his fingers. I watched her smile at Pa and I saw the love in her eyes as she gazed at her husband. I wondered if she had ever thought, when she agreed to marry Pa, that she would one day have a houseful of people under her roof.
And then there was Cloud Walker. He sat next to Mary, looking a trifle uncomfortable at celebrating a white man's holiday. I knew he was concerned about his position in our household. He was not really family, only a hired hand who happened to be very much in love with our daughter. Mary had again written to Frank asking for a divorce, but so far she had received no reply.
After we finished dinner with pie and coffee, the women did the dishes while the men sat in the parlor, talking about the weather and their plans for the new year.
Two days after Thanksgiving, Frank Smythe arrived in Bear Valley. He went first to see his parents. Leland and Mattie welcomed Frank home with open arms, assuring him that he could stay with them until he and Mary could work things out.
Later that same afternoon, Frank knocked at our front door. He had changed drastically from the young man who had left Bear Valley a little over a year ago. Frank had always been quiet and soft-spoken, a little self-conscious. But no more. This was a new Frank Smythe, and he looked prosperous and self-assured in a dark blue suit, starched white shirt, black tie, and highly polished black boots. A neatly folded silk handkerchief was tucked into the pocket of his suit coat.
"Good day, Mrs. Kincaid," Frank said politely. "Is Mary here?"
"Yes, she is, Frank. Won't you come in?"
"Thank you."
Mary had been sitting on the sofa mending one of Katherine's frocks. She stood up as Frank entered the room. There was an awkward moment of silence as Mary and Frank regarded each other.
"Excuse me," I said, and went into the kitchen. I closed the door, but I could easily hear what was being said.
"Sit down, won't you, Frank?" Mary invited in a voice that was coolly polite. "How have you been?"
"Fine, Mary," Frank replied briskly. "I want you to come home with me."
"Do you, Frank?" Mary asked tremulously. "Why?"
I waited for Frank's answer
, wondering if he knew how bitter Mary was, wondering if he truly realized how much he had hurt her.
"I don't need a reason," Frank answered irritably. "You're my wife, and you belong with me."
"I don't want to go back to Chicago," Mary said, and I marveled at how calm she sounded, how sure of herself.
"Listen, Mary, I'm in line for a big promotion at the bank. Vice president, if you will. Do you have any idea what that means?"
"Yes. It means more money and more prestige and less time for me."
"Is that what's bothering you?" Frank exclaimed. "Dammit, Mary, I worked hard every day."
"And played hard every night. I can't go back to that, Frank. I won't."
"What do you expect me to do? Give up a promising career with a future and bury myself here in Bear Valley?"
"I don't care what you do," Mary replied.
A knock at the door stilled Frank's reply, and then I heard Cloud Walker's voice. Knowing I shouldn't, I peeked through the door. Frank had stood up when Cloud Walker entered the room, and now the two men were eyeing each other warily, like dogs about to fight over a scrap of meat. I wondered if Mary had written Frank about Cloud Walker. It didn't seem likely.
Cloud Walker cleared his throat. "You have company," he said, his eyes dark with jealousy. "I will come back later."
Frank was facing my way and I saw his eyes narrow suspiciously at the look of affection that passed between Mary and Cloud Walker. If the look they exchanged wasn't evidence enough of their feelings for one another, Mary's guilty blush cinched it.
"So," Frank drawled after Cloud Walker left the house, "that's the reason you don't want to come home with me."
"I don't know what you mean," Mary replied haughtily.
Frank snorted. "Don't you? It's written all over that pretty little face of yours. You've found some buck to take my place. I might have known," he sneered. "Once a squaw, always a squaw."
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