Tynes shook his head. “Much as I love her, Zeke, I would ask that you not do that to her. For however many years you might have, let her have them. She will always belong to you, in life or death. It won’t make any difference. I have come to know her too well. I can only say that if such a thing would happen, I would do all I could to help her, and I would give her a home here if she would have it. But you aren’t thinking clearly, Zeke. Take her home when you come back. She has suffered enough.”
Zeke walked toward the door. “That’s just the point. She has suffered enough.” He paused, meeting the man’s eyes. “I was only feeling you out, Tynes. And I am trusting her to you, trusting you to respect the fact that she is married to me. Normally I would kill any man who looked at her with desire, but your look is one of love and respect. You needn’t fear me if I should come back to find that she wants to stay here.”
“That, my friend, will never happen. I am no fool, and neither are you. You know full well where she wants to be. She will still be yours when you come back, and I daresay you will want her as much as you have always wanted her, A man cannot easily give up that which makes him walk and breathe, can he?”
Their eyes held, Zeke’s dark and flashing with Indian pride and great passion for his wife. “When an Indian village is attacked, the men go forward and fight as quickly as they can grab a weapon,” he said quietly. “Often some of them deliberately expose themselves to to the line of fire, drawing off the enemy’s attention so that the women and children can flee to safety. The women and children must be protected at all costs and a warrior will die to do it. In a sense that is what I am doing now, Tynes. I am fighting—dying—for their protection. Indian women run to the hills or to cover. I need to know my woman can run to you and that you would give her refuge, but that you would not take her to your bed unless she was willing to go. That is the only circumstance under which I would kill you, and you would suffer long before you died.” His nostrils flared with repressed jealousy, and Tynes fully understood how difficult it was for the man to consider giving up his wife.
“A woman like Abigail can’t be had any other way but willingly, but she would have my eternal friendship and protection.” He watched Zeke struggle for composure. “But I must tell you I think you’re very wrong to be thinking the way you are, Zeke. You are a fighter, and above all you want her happiness. Without you she will never be happy. So you’d best do some serious praying to whatever Gods you pray to, and know in your heart what is really right to do.”
Zeke swallowed. “Thank you for the drink—and the promise. I treasure your friendship. I have brought back my prize stud, Drinker of the Wind. He is yours if… if anything happens to me. So is my land, except that you should consult Abbie on her wishes. The land is in her name.” Anger came to his eyes then, a sneer to his lips. “Indians cannot own land! Not even a man who is only part Indian!” He turned and quickly left.
Bonnie straightened, looking down at a replica of Zeke Monroe. Five days had passed since Wolf’s Blood had been shot. She turned to Dan. “The doctor has done all he can. I’ll keep a good eye on him, keep his bandages changed.”
Dan walked closer, putting a hand on her shoulder. “He has to live, Bonnie. My God, he has to live! I’ll not tell Zeke Monroe that his son is dead.”
She blinked back tears. “I know. Oh, Dan, he’s so young! What is he now? Twenty at the most?”
“Something like that. Nineteen, I think. How bad is the wound itself? I know the greatest danger was the loss of blood. If I could just have got him here sooner!”
“The loss of blood is why he’s so weak, and why he lost consciousness. His left collarbone was badly broken. It will take some time to heal. And he lost a piece of his left shoulder blade. That was quite a hole someone blew in him. I wish Zeke could be here, but we don’t even know if he’s back so I hate to write to Abbie and give her such sorry news. She couldn’t bear it right now.”
“We’ll keep it to ourselves and hope we never have to tell her anything but that he’s fine and coming home.”
She sighed deeply and turned to look up at him. “What about you? You look terrible, Dan. It must have been quite an ordeal. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Just a little weak from hunger.”
“I hope they don’t send such a small platoon out on a patrol like that again,” she told him. “What if it hadn’t been Swift Arrow? You’d all have been killed.” Their eyes held. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
They were alone in her bedroom, where she had insisted Wolf’s Blood be brought so she could nurse him. Dan could not resist the urge to kiss her. He bent, meeting her lips warmly, gently. This was not the rude, groping kiss he had given her when drunk and sick with grief for Emily. He felt her shiver and he pulled her close, pressing his hand into the small of her back, kissing her harder then, on fire when she gave a light whimper. Her arms moved up around his neck and he embraced her tightly, enjoying the feel of her breasts against his chest.
Finally, he released her and held her close, and she breathed deeply of his manly scent. In all her years with Rodney Lewis, she had not felt this way about a man. She had never felt fulfilled.
“What would you say if… if I asked you to marry me, Bonnie?” His voice was gruff with passion. “I know it’s awfully soon for both of us, but I’m tired of being alone. I want something soft in the night, after drilling men all day—something warm and gentle waiting for me when I come back from patrols. You’re going to care for my daughter. You might as well be her mother.”
Her heart pounded in excited joy, and her breath seemed to have left her. “Oh, Dan! Would I be foolish to say yes?”
Their lips met again, this time more hungrily. He moved his lips to her cheek, her neck, holding her tightly so that her toes barely touched the floor. “No more foolish than I am to ask. Out here people do crazy things, don’t they?”
They both started to laugh, and their eyes held. He saw the sorrow in hers then, and he released her slightly, still holding her close. “I know you will always love Zeke, Bonnie, but—”
“No! Don’t say it. That was a long time ago, Dan. It’s over. I knew in the beginning that was impossible. Don’t ever think you would be a substitute, Daniel Monroe. I have grown to love you for you, and you’re more man than I dreamed I could ever have. Yes, I will marry you. I will love Zeke, as a dear friend and a man who is very special to me, but I will love you as a wife loves a husband, with all my heart, all my devotion.”
He pressed her against him, and she knew one night with Dan Monroe would far excede all her nights with Rodney Lewis. “When in hell is your father supposed to get here?” he asked. “He could marry us.”
“Two days! I almost forgot! Just two days, Dan, and we can be married!”
“Well, let’s hope nothing happens to him. I’m not even sure I can wait the two days. I suddenly realize very clearly what I want, and I’m going to be a very happy man.”
She felt her body flush and tingle. “And I will be a very happy woman.”
Wolf’s Blood groaned and the spell was broken. Dan released her and she bent over the boy, who was only moaning in his unconscious state. He had not been totally awake and alert since he’d passed out shortly after he was shot. “I just hope he’ll be all right, Dan. I couldn’t be truly happy for a while if he doesn’t make it.” She gently caressed the boy’s forehead, and Dan knew that looking at the son of Zeke Monroe brought back painful memories for her. She would always love Zeke and he knew it, but she was aware that was an impossible love. Dan didn’t care. He would make her his wife and love her, and he knew she would love him totally, never again mentioning her feelings for his brother. In two days he would share the warmth of a woman’s body again, have someone who would care about him, care for his little girl. That was all that mattered. A man needed a woman in this land, and a woman needed a man. They would be happy.
Chapter Eighteen
Anna opened the back door to
the kitchen in answer to the knock. Then she gasped and stepped back, her heart pounding with instantly awakened memories and desires. “Zeke!”
He came inside in one quiet, graceful step, dressed in buckskins, looking all Indian. She quickly closed the door.
“What on earth—” She stepped around in front of him. “I was expecting Abbie. She had sent me a letter saying she’d come as soon as weather permitted.”
“I got back since she wrote. I came instead. LeeAnn needs her.”
Their eyes held. It had been a long time. She was as beautiful as ever, her black hair showing no gray, her blue eyes painted lightly, provocatively, her full figure enticing in a simple dress that showed the gentle curve of her ample breasts and the smallness of her waist. How many years ago was it she had used her deviltry to force him to her bed in exchange for the information he needed about his sister-in-law. But that had been a different Anna Gale. She had changed, yet he imagined that after all those years of lying with men, she still had a harlot’s heart and a harlot’s talent for pleasing a man.
She, in turn, was struck by the fact that he never seemed to change. He had the same brawny power, the same provocative dark eyes and finely chiseled lips, the same Indian spirit that had stirred her desires. But she had long since learned it was impossible to have this man, for she knew he loved Abigail Monroe.
She tried to control the flush that was coming to her cheeks, and to her dismay she felt like a young girl who has never been with a man. Her palms were sweaty and she rubbed them against her skirt nervously. “Well… sit down, Zeke! How long have you been riding? Are you hungry? Would you like coffee or something? It’s well past supper time, but I can heat something up for you. I—”
“Where is she!” he demanded. “Show me the place!”
She frowned, studying his appearance. “No. Not yet. You sit down and get your thoughts together. You go storming over there looking like that and someone will shoot you before you walk through the door.” She became her old, sure self again when she realized how angry and upset he was. “Besides, you’d be going after your daughter in the wrong way. Make her want to come home, Zeke, don’t drag her there.”
He just stood there, rifle in hand. “I’ll drag her anyplace I want! She’s my daughter! I’ll not have her whoring around!”
She flinched slightly and reddened a little. “I can understand how you feel, but let me help you think this out, Zeke. I understand what she’s going through.” Her eyes hardened a little. “When I was raped as an orphan child back East, I reacted the same way. I felt dirty and ashamed, and good for only one thing. Orphans were looked down upon as Indians are today. They still are in some places.”
She turned away and set a large coffeepot on her iron cookstove, opening a little door beneath to stir the embers. Then she took a few pieces of coal from a nearby bucket and added them to the fire.
Zeke sighed and sat down at the table. “I’m sorry, Anna. We both appreciate your writing us.” She turned around to face him, her eyes glistening with tears. “Damn it, she’s my daughter!” he hissed.
She swallowed. “I understand,” she said quietly, sitting down across from him. She breathed deeply. “Zeke, please do as I say and think this out. Stay here tonight. I’ll give you a free room for as long as it takes to talk her into going back, and I’ll get you some civilized clothing tomorrow. Get some rest and gather your thoughts, and don’t make a scene when you go, no matter how difficult it is for you to hold yourself in.”
His jaw flexed and he grasped a salt shaker, squeezing it nervously. “I’ll do my best.”
She studied him lovingly, then reached out and touched his hand. “How is Abbie? I never heard from you after I told you about Winston Garvey and how you could get your hands on him.”
He let go of her hand and leaned back in the chair, his long legs and big frame seeming to fill the small kitchen. Momentarily, she had the sensation that a wild animal was loose in her house.
“I won’t go into detail about Garvey and his men. Only Wolf’s Blood and I know what happened to them.” A chill swept through her at the realization of what this man was capable of doing. “We found Abbie in a deserted mine.” He stared at the table. “She was in a bad way—almost dead from starvation and beatings.”
“Poor Abbie! I’m so sorry, Zeke.”
He turned the salt shaker in his hand. “It took her a long time to get over it. She could have handled the neglect and beatings. It was the fact that other men had used her that made her not want to live at first. She thought I wouldn’t want her anymore.” He smiled bitterly. “What a foolish thought!” He met Anna’s eyes. “She finally came around.”
Anna smiled, an almost wicked smile. “With you to turn to, what woman would stay estranged forever? If any man can help a woman get over something like that, I felt you could. Your love is so strong. You two have something few people ever find.”
His eyes saddened and he set the salt shaker on the table. “True. But maybe we love each other too much. Things aren’t so great now, Anna. Too much has happened.”
She frowned, resting her elbows on the table. “What do you mean?”
He stared silently at the salt shaker for a moment. “I don’t know if I can stay with her after this. Because of being married to me, she’s suffered so many things, more than any good woman should.” He breathed deeply and stood up, pacing like a restless cat. “I’m thinking of going north after I get Margaret back—maybe joining the Sioux and getting it over with.”
Her chest tightened. “Getting what over with?”
He stopped and grasped the handle of his knife nervously. “My life. With me gone, she’d be free to live the kind of life she deserves. She’ll not consider it while I’m alive. But there’s an Englishman who bought up thousands of acres adjoining our land. He’s handsome, wealthy, worldly. He’s a gentleman, well schooled. Lives in a mansion that looks like a castle. And he loves her. Without me in the picture, she can have it all and live in luxury for her remaining years. Ever since her abduction and rape I’ve suffered from an unbearable guilt. The things that have happened over the past few months have only made it worse.”
She rose, anger in her eyes. “I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in all my life! Do you really think she could just casually take up life with a new man after being with you for twenty years? And I always thought you were a wise man! You’re a fool!”
He straightened, anger appearing in his own eyes. “You don’t understand. You’ve never loved this way.”
She met his gaze. “Haven’t I? What would you know? I think I fully understand why Abigail Monroe doesn’t give a damn about riches, not when she can have you beside her in the night!” She whirled and walked to the coffeepot, which was beginning to heat up. They both stood quietly for a moment. “I’m … sorry. I had no right to say that,” she finally said. “But don’t tell me I don’t understand about love, Zeke Monroe. I wish to hell it was Abbie who had come and not you.”
“I can stay someplace else if you want.”
She shook her head. “No.” She turned to face him. “I wouldn’t think of it. Besides, you need to talk—a lot. Something has happened to you, but you will get over it, Zeke. Don’t do something foolish now and leave your Abbie. You’re just suffering from so many things that you can’t think straight. Leaving her would destroy her, Zeke, not help her. Do you really think she could go to another man, or that you could bear the knowledge that another man was bedding her?” She smiled at the flash of anger and jealousy in his dark eyes. “Just as I thought.” She laughed lightly. “Sit down, you big, stupid buck, and have some coffee. Do you want something to eat?”
Somehow he suddenly felt better; some of his anger and depression were leaving him: “Maybe just a biscuit, if you have any.”
She nodded. “Coming up.” She walked to a bread box, and he watched her graceful movements. “Have you heard anything about Wolf’s Blood?”
“No. That’s one reason wh
y I need to go north. I can’t stand not knowing. I love him.”
“God knows you do.” She brought two biscuits to the table, and a wooden bowl of butter and a knife. “For him you must keep going, Zeke. He might be making war up north, but he still needs and loves you.”
Zeke broke open a biscuit and buttered it. “I’ve never been so confused in my life, Anna. The memory of those Comanches ripping LeeAnn from my arms still haunts me. I rode out to find her—finally did … with Comancheros. Thank God she hadn’t been raped, but she’d been treated badly and she’ll have nightmares for a long time to come. Then I came home to find little Lillian dead and my oldest daughter run off to Denver. In addition, Comanches stole my whole herd. I don’t know if I can start from scratch and make it all over again. My brother was killed when the Comaches raided, and—” He set down the biscuit and looked at her strangely. “My God, Anna, my brother is dead! Lance is dead! I haven’t even been able to think about that! It’s as though … as though I just now remembered!” He closed his eyes and leaned back, putting a hand to his forehead. “I feel so tired and beaten, Anna.”
She rose and walked around behind him, putting one hand under his chin and the other at his forehead and resting the back of his head against her waist. “Maybe you just haven’t grieved enough, Zeke. Not just for Lance, but for what happened to Abbie, for Sand Creek, for all of it. Maybe if you went someplace alone and truly let go, you’d be able to think more clearly. You’d get rid of that terrible load of guilt and sorrow you’re carrying—for your family, for the Cheyenne.”
Her hands were cool and soft, relaxing. “Maybe you’re right,” he said quietly. “But it won’t come out, Anna. It’s like a bunch of explosives are bottled up inside of me, all lit and about to go off, but they never do.”
She moved her hands to his shoulders, massaging them. “Eat those biscuits. I’ll pour you some coffee, and when you’re through, I’ll give you a room. Sleep tonight. Sleep as long as you need to. Tomorrow is soon enough to see to Margaret. You’ll do her no good going over there angry and exhausted and confused like you are tonight. It’s a long ride from where you live to Denver, and I don’t doubt you made it in half the time it would take a normal man.” She patted his shoulder and walked back to the stove, pouring him some coffee. Then she struggled to think of a way to change the conversation to something more light-hearted. Finally, she smiled. “How do you like my new business? Kind of a change, isn’t it?”
Climb the Highest Mountain Page 31
