Simply Heaven

by Patricia Hagan

  Steve threw back his head and laughed as he slapped her on her shoulder. She instantly drew back. Thinking she did so out of fear, he assured, "You don't have to be afraid. Pounding somebody on the back is a good-natured gesture among white men."

  "I just don't like being touched." She handed him the canteen. "And I really don't like your firewater."

  "What do you like, a boy like you?" His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "You've got no friends. No family. No home. Just you and your crazy mustang, who obviously doesn't want anymore to do with people than you do. You can't have a very happy life, Little Crow."

  She had learned in the past that the best way to steer the conversation from her was to respond to questions with one of her own. "What about you? Is your life happy?"

  He thought a minute, then shrugged. "I guess so—till now. Frankly, it's not very pleasant being out here in this wilderness worrying over maybe getting scalped. I don't mind saying I'd rather be back in Alabama tending horses."

  Raven seized the opportunity to try again to discover something, anything, that would reveal why her father was looking for her. "So why are you here searching for the girl you call Raven? You speak highly of the man you work for, but he must not feel the same for you if he would ask you to come out here, knowing you might run into danger."

  "Because he's desperate to find his—" Steve caught himself just in time. The whiskey was making his tongue loose. He had almost said daughter, and that would be a big mistake. Little Crow might have proved he had spunk and grit and could think clearly in the midst of a crisis, but he had also exhibited how wily he could be. Steve had revealed that Ned was a very rich man, so it stood to reason that Little Crow would be sure to grab an opportunity to help some Tonkawa girlfriend claim to be heiress to the fortune.

  "Find his what?" Raven managed to ask in a normal tone of voice, although her pulse was beating wildly. If he would say daughter, that would lead to other questions, and eventually she would pry the real story out of him.

  "Never mind. We weren't talking about me or the reason I'm here, anyway. It's you I'm curious about." He took another drink. "But I suppose it doesn't matter, since we won't be together much longer. I think once we reach the reservation I'll try to hire somebody older who might remember Greer or the girl. You obviously don't—unless you're keeping something else from me."

  "No, nothing." It had become so easy to lie since her deception as a boy had begun. "But you might have a problem finding anyone who'll help unless you tell why you're looking for her. You say you mean her no harm, but how can anyone be sure?"

  "The man who sent me has business with her. That's all you or anybody else needs to know. If I succeed, everyone will realize she's in no danger."

  He settled back, using his saddle for a pillow.

  Raven knew she would get no more information out of him this night and was starting to think she would never learn why her father was looking for her. What difference did it make anyway? He had nothing she wanted, and she certainly had nothing to offer him. Steve could go back to Alabama and tell him his daughter could not be found, so he would let the past finally be as dead and buried as her mother and her stepfather.

  With that resolve, Raven knew it was time to put her curiosity aside and return to her life, such as it was. She had never thought much about the future but supposed she should start. Sooner or later, someone would discover her pretense, and that could mean big trouble. Maybe she should go to Mexico and try to find work there. The vaqueros might not mind a young and capable girl helping them once she proved she could herd cattle and break horses like a man. And she would also let them know quickly not to get any ideas about her.

  The fire was almost out. Smothering the remaining embers with dirt, she took her blanket and retreated to make her bed, as usual. Steve did not notice. His eyes were closed. He was worn out, as he had said.

  She bathed in the pool but did not linger, fearing he might wake up.

  At last she lay down, but, as on every other night since they had been together, she could not easily fall asleep. She knew having Steve so close was the reason.

  Before she had become Little Crow, her experiences with men had not been pleasant, so she had not given them much thought as a woman. But she also had never met one like Steve, who made her feel as though baby birds were fluttering around in her stomach. Something about him seemed to warm her all over. Maybe it really was time for them to part, before she forgot to concentrate on passing for a boy and made a mistake that could lead to discovery.

  With her mind made up to leave him, she allowed herself the pleasure of fantasizing as to what he was really like.

  When he casually relieved himself on a creek bank, not knowing a woman was watching him, she always turned away but could not help being tempted to peek, because she had never seen a man naked below the waist. She had never wanted to—till Steve.

  Sometimes she would look at him from behind her thick layer of bangs, focusing on his mouth and how appealing it was when he smiled, wondering how his lips, so tender, would feel against her own. She looked, too, at his hands and felt a warm rush deep down in her belly to think of them on her body.

  She knew how babies were made, and thinking of her and Steve coupled that way made her feel tingly all over. What did it mean? Would she ever know? Dear God, what was this dangerously handsome man doing to her by just his presence?

  Finally, fitfully, she drifted away, intent on waking before first light. She would leave one of her arrows on the ground beside Steve, pointing in the direction he should ride and confident he would understand the meaning. Then she would head south, eventually making her way to Mexico....

  Dawn came, the sun leaped eagerly into the sky to begin another blazing assault upon the earth, and Raven slept soundly. It was only when she heard singing in the early morning stillness that she awoke with a start.

  Cursing because she would have to wait another day before sneaking away, she crept irritably through the bushes to see why Steve was so happy. Then, hearing a splash, she crouched behind a bush and peeked through the leaves. If he was bathing again, there was nothing wrong with spying for a few seconds. One more day, and she would be gone and never see him again anyway, and she couldn't help being curious and—she gasped.

  He was swimming in the pool, so clear and inviting. As he sliced through the water with firm, sure strokes of his muscular arms, now and then his bare buttocks would break the water's surface. She could see his firm thighs, the tautness of his legs.

  He reached the other side and stood, his back to her, and she could not tear her eyes away, drinking in every magnificent part of his body. She leaned closer to afford a better look, wanting to memorize every detail, knowing she would probably never witness such a sight again.

  And then he turned.

  Raven caught her breath and held it.

  He was running his fingers through his wet hair, pushing it back from his face, standing with his legs wide apart.

  She saw him then in all the glory of his manhood and could not stop staring, and when he began to run his hands over himself to wash, she became even more mesmerized as her mind betrayed her in the worst possible way. She began to imagine it was actually her hands rubbing his rock-hard chest, moving to caress his broad shoulders and on down the sinewy arms. It was her fingers playing upon his thighs, moving between to cleanse, then dipping down into the pond to splash more water upon his most private parts.

  Raven could hear the pounding of her heart and suddenly wondered if he could also hear it, because he was lifting his head, glancing about, like an animal sensing danger.

  He stood very still for a moment, alert, letting his senses take over to guide him. Then, satisfied he had heard nothing, he dove once again into the water.

  Raven licked her lips nervously, for they were dry from her ragged, harsh breathing. She felt dizzy and her insides churned; she wondered if she was going to be sick. Then she angrily chided herself for how she was reacting.r />
  With a wild shake of her head to deny what she was so helplessly experiencing, she summoned every shred of self-control she possessed to make herself turn away. But feeling waves of emotion that seemed to overwhelm she missed her footing, tripped over a clump of mesquite, and pitched forward, landing with a thud and a cry of surprise.

  Steve heard the noise as he stepped out of the water. Without pausing for his clothes, he headed in the direction it had come from. "What's wrong, Little Crow? Did you fall?"

  In panic, Raven tried to stand, but her foot was still caught under the branch. Turning, she tried to free herself, but that was the precise instant when Steve came through the brush, still naked. She took one look at him and gave a soft moan and promptly rolled to burrow her face in the dirt.

  Steve saw Little Crow was trying to hide his face and laughed to think he was embarrassed over falling. "Don't you know you can break a leg by not watching where you're going? What were you doing anyway?"

  "I wasn't spying, I swear," Raven babbled, finally yanking her foot free.

  Steve knew then he had bee spying. Lord, he was a strange one, all right. But enough was enough. It was time for him to get over his shyness. "Come on and take a swim. The water feels good, and it's going to be another scorcher today. You'll be glad later that we took the time."

  "No!" Raven knew she had spoken more forcefully than she should have, because as she scrambled to her feet she saw the gleam in his eye. He had taken her refusal as a challenge.

  "Oh, yes, you are!" he cried, determined to break the boy out of his shell. "We're taking a swim together."

  Raven yelped in protest as he threw her over his shoulders. Kicking her legs frantically, she beat on his back with her fists, but then she looked down to see how close her face was to his bare bottom, groaned, and squeezed her eyes shut.

  Reaching the edge of the pond, Steve pulled her into his arms, then sent her sailing through the air to land in the middle with a splash.

  Raven hit on her back and sank, immediately stretching out her legs so as soon as she touched bottom she could spring quickly back to the surface. With broad strokes, she swam for the opposite side, intending to scramble out and hide till he tired of bedeviling her.

  But he was right behind her, diving to land only a few feet behind. "Oh, no, you don't. You're not getting away that easy. Now I've got you in here, you're going to have a bath if I have to give it you myself." His hands clamped on her shoulders to push her under.

  Flailing at him with her fists was useless below the water, but when he yanked her to the surface she managed to land a sound punch to his right cheek.

  "Well, that merits another dunk," he bellowed, unhurt by the blow but fast becoming annoyed that Little Crow continued to fight him. "Can't you relax and have some fun?"

  Down she went again.

  This time Steve's hold slipped and he also went under, but when his hands reached out, it was not Little Crow's narrow shoulders he felt but two well-rounded... breasts?

  He burst to the surface. "What the hell?" he spat out around mouthfuls of water.

  Raven tried to get away from him, but his fingers were clamped firmly on her torso, and she cried fiercely, "Let me go, damn you!" She swung at him again, but he dodged the blow.

  Nearly struck dumb with wonder, he released her to yank her arms behind her back. Then, with his free hand, he quickly explored the body beneath the clinging army shirt, astonished to positively identify breasts, a narrow waist, and, plunging downward—the final shocking realization that he was not holding an Indian boy.

  He was holding a woman.

  Chapter 7

  Raven knew the charade was over.

  Her mind frozen in horror, she was unprepared for him to let go of her so abruptly. When he did, she sank into the water again.

  This time, he did not pull her up. Instead, he swam out, not trusting himself to say or do anything till he could sort out what it meant.

  Raven surfaced, shaking with rage. If only he had left her alone she could have gone her own way, and he would have forgotten all about Little Crow. Now he would tell everyone. Word would spread. Now she would have to get to Mexico right away, lest some of the men she had fooled be so angry they would want revenge—in the worst possible way for a woman.

  "You should have kept your hands off me," she said as she stepped out of the water.

  Steve had pulled on his trousers, strapped on his holster, and now sat on the ground, waiting for her. "I wish I'd dunked you sooner." He was tight-lipped and grim. "Then you wouldn't have made a fool out of me for so long."

  "If you had minded your own business, you would never have found out."

  "What I want to know now is why you did it, why you wanted me and everybody else to think you're a boy."

  His eyes dropped to her bosom. The wet clothing was like a second skin, and now her shape was obvious, her nipples distinct. "Tell me, you conniving little liar. Hell, I ought to wring your neck."

  "Why? I saved your life yesterday, didn't I? And I was able to provide food for us last night. I haven't gotten us lost. So all in all, I'd say you don't have anything to gripe about, mister, and you won't be bothered with me anymore, anyway, because I'm getting out of here and you can go to hell for all I care."

  She started to walk away, but he grabbed her ankle to bring her sprawling down beside him. He caught her wrists and yanked her arms above her head to restrain her. "Now listen. You aren't going anywhere except to the Sabine reservation. And then you can go to hell for all I care."

  "I won't take you there, because you'll tell everyone about me, and then it will be like it was before—the young bucks wanting to bed me and the old geezers wanting to marry me. That's why I pretended to be a boy, so they'd all leave me alone."

  Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked furiously, determined not to cry. "And you can't make me take you, because I'll do what I've been doing ever since we left Fort Inge—lead you in circles, and the first chance I get I'll leave you, and then you'll be lost. Let me go now, and I swear I'll point you in the right direction and you can make it on your own."

  She had absently pushed her wet bangs back from her face, where they fell in with the rest of her hair. The dunkings had washed the dirt from her cheeks, and Steve got his first really good look at her. With a bit of doing, she would be pretty. And as he thought that way, leaning over her so close he could feel her nipples against his chest, he cursed himself to experience a stirring in his loins.

  "You mean to tell me you've deliberately delayed us? I told you I'm in a hurry to find that girl. The man who sent me may not live long." He released her. "Oh, to hell with you. I'll get there without you. You'd probably lead me into a nest of Indians anyway."

  Raven felt no reaction to hear her father might be dying. She had never known him; she had no reason to care. But enraged at Steve's accusation and overcome by the intensity of the moment, she lost control and cried, "I wouldn't do that to you or anybody else. Go your own way. I don't care. And I don't care about Ned Ralston either, so go back to Alabama and tell him you found his daughter and she said she hopes he rots in hell."

  Jolted, Steve stared after her as she scrambled to her feet and stalked towards the mustang. "What... what did you say?" he stammered, sure he had not heard her right.

  She turned to repeat her venomous decree, watching his eyes grow wide. "Yes, I'm the one you've been looking for. Your search is over. Good-bye."

  He was after her in a flash, but she heard him coming and was ready, whipping to face him, her knife drawn. "Don't touch me."

  Steve eyed the weapon warily. He knew how well she could ride and shoot a bow and arrow and had no reason to doubt her skill with a knife. "There's no need for that," he said gently. "I'm not going to hurt you—Raven." It felt strange to call her that for the first time, and now he wondered how he could have been so blind, but he had not been the only one she had fooled. She was a very intelligent and clever girl.

  "Did my fathe
r send you to kill me?"

  "Good God, no. Why would you think that?"

  "Maybe he was afraid once my mother and stepfather died that I might go looking for him and try to make him take care of me, and he didn't want his wife"—she sneered—"to know he had fathered a bastard—especially by a lowly squaw."

  "That's crazy. Aren't you forgetting I first asked about Seth Greer? Ned didn't know he was dead. He was just trying to find out what happened to you after Seth wrote him that your mother died, because there were no more letters after that and all of Ned's to him were returned."

  "He waited a long time to worry about us—eighteen years."

  "He sent money."

  "To try and buy freedom from his guilt over deserting us. Now he wants to do away with me so no one will ever know the despicable thing he did."

  "I swear to you that's not so. He only wants to make amends before he dies. He's a sick man. That's why he sent me to find you instead of coming himself."

  Her smile was sardonic. "Has he been sick for eighteen years?"

  "I'm not going to try to understand out why he waited so long, but sometimes it takes contemplating his own mortality to make a man want to set things right while he still has time. That's why he wants to make sure you get what's rightfully yours when he's gone. That's also the reason I couldn't say why I was searching for you. I was afraid once word got out Indian girls would come from all over claiming to be you. Keeping quiet made my job harder, but it had to be that way."

  Raven had backed all the way to where Diablo was tied to a tree, lazily nibbling chaparral. She was not about to take time to go back and get her blanket and would have to ride completely bareback. She nodded to the knife. "I don't want to hurt you, so stay away from me."

  "Come back with me," he begged. "What have you got to lose?"

  She laughed coldly. "What about his wife? How will she feel about his bastard claiming anything? And do you really think I want to come face to face with the woman he was married to at the time he planted the seed for me in my mother?"