by Jillian Hart
Remembering made him weak. It made him long for the family he’d lost. And the family he would never have. He slid off Shadow and gave the horse a pat on the flank. Understanding, the great stallion tossed his head, letting the wind catch his mane, and he was off, racing the wind on his own.
Anger, grief, regret. All three hit Night Hawk as hard as a twister chewing up everything in its path. He sank to his knees in the lush grass, breathed in the scent of early summer and gazed down at the lake below. Water glimmered cheerfully, birds glided by on joyful wings, trees rustled with the voice of gladness. He felt dark inside and lost.
All those times Marie had looked at him with loving eyes and a jubilant smile she must have known about the baby. Maybe she’d been trying to find a way to tell him. And what had he told her? Goodbye. When she’d been carrying his babe.
It was for the best. He clung to it, even though he felt dead inside. The last thing he would ever feel was this all-consuming grief that would never end.
For the loss of the woman and child he loved with all his soul.
He sat for a long while as the sun moved past its zenith. Shadow returned, walking peacefully, and rubbed his nose hard along Night Hawk’s back.
“I don’t have any peppermint,” he said dully. “Go back to the ranch.”
Shadow knocked him over.
“Hey!” He rubbed his hand down the stallion’s neck. “What is your problem?”
Then Meka’s bark echoed faintly in the valley below. A bark of joy and welcome, the one the dog always reserved for Marie. The dog bounded through the meadow and disappeared.
Night Hawk stumbled to his feet. His pulse pounded though his veins as he ran to the meadow’s edge, where the hillside fell away and he could see most of the lakeshore. There, in the meadow that met the water, he saw a spot of gray. A woman. Marie.
With Meka at her side, she watched the placid lake lap the shore and felt a deep peace. Marie laid her hand on her stomach, wincing as her back tightened again. She was far too pregnant to have been sitting in a bouncing stage. This walk had helped stretch her tired muscles. After all, carrying a baby was a major undertaking.
Beneath her hand, she could feel the flutters of life as her child moved. Earlier, he’d been hiccuping when she and John had joined the Websters for dinner in their home.
Mrs. Webster had taken one look at them on her doorstep, stared at Marie’s obvious pregnancy and then rushed her right inside. Not another word was said about her supposedly shameful state, although Marie had the feeling Mrs. Webster understood. And could correctly guess who the father was.
She was supposed to be resting, but her muscles had ached and she’d wanted a walk. John had gone to speak with Henry. Marie didn’t hold any hope the coldhearted man could change his ways. His love no longer mattered to her. She had Aunt Gertrude. She still had a chance with Night Hawk.
The image of heartbreak on his face told her everything. He wanted her. He loved her. Still.
Meka barked in welcome again, bounding away from Marie’s side. There on the incline above her emerged a man as dark as the shadows. His stance spoke power. His black hair rippled in the wind.
When he stepped into the sunlight, joy splashed across her heart like the brightest dawn. Looking at him made her feel as if her life was just beginning. The sun shone only for them as he strode down the path. His gaze locked on hers and she felt a steel band wrap around her stomach and clamp tight. Everything within her cried out at his approach.
“Why are you here?” Night Hawk fought to keep the intense mix of emotions from his face and his voice. He saw her blanch, and he knew he’d failed. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I didn’t think you would come to this place.”
“I think of it as our place.” She smiled shyly at him and lit up his whole world. The sun in the sky, the stars in the heavens could not be as beautiful as this one woman.
His love, like a banked flame, burst to life. Overwhelming and consuming, it made him feel weak. All he wanted was her. All he would ever want would be her.
She stepped close, bringing the sunshine with her, and laid a gentle hand on his arm. “There is something I have to tell you.”
“I already know.” He glanced at her swollen abdomen, ripe with his child. Sadness gripped him like sharp talons. What was he to do now? What was the right thing? He’d let her go to a greater happiness. Why had she returned? “Your husband looks to be a good man.”
“My husband?” Confusion burrowed into her brow, and then vanished. “You mean John. He’s my cousin on my mother’s side. He graciously agreed to bring me back to you, since traveling alone would be a difficult journey for me.”
She laid her other hand on her huge stomach, drawing his gaze there, where his child was nestled.
His child. The impact rocked him. “You aren’t married?”
“No.” Her words were quiet. “My father told me first love burns out quickly because it’s so bright. But he was wrong. My first love for you burns so brightly it will never end.”
Her words were like magic, like a dream often dreamed but forgotten come morning. He fought against it. And he couldn’t. Everything within him cried out to claim her.
What about the hawk’s feather? The dream of sacrifice? He could not have her.
But then a pair of hawks soared low over the glistening water of the lake, reminding him of something else. She’d returned. A woman of the greatest value. Is that why the hawk had returned with his mate, to tell Night Hawk he had the right to love Marie? That he had the right to finally make her his wife?
Far over the lake, the male hawk called out as if in answer.
Night Hawk’s doubt vanished. Whatever journey his spirit hawk had wanted them to make was now complete, he was sure of it. Marie was truly his to cherish, his kammeo, his one and only love for all time.
“Night Hawk.” Hearing his name on her lips drew his attention to her, to the woman he loved beyond all. But she wasn’t smiling. She no longer looked happy. “I should have told you about the baby sooner. I should have given you more time. But I’m here now to ask you what I was too afraid to ask before.”
Hurt darkened her eyes and it wounded him. He longed to touch her but didn’t dare. He couldn’t believe he could simply reach out and hold her. That this beautiful woman could be his.
“You loved me once.” She searched his gaze. “Can you find a way to love me again?”
“My shaylee.” He pulled her into his arms and held her, simply held her. “My love grows greater for you every day. Apart or together, that will never change.”
“Then you want me? And the baby?”
“More than my life.” He kissed her and she tasted like summer. Always summer. Her arms curled around his neck, and he pulled her more closely against him. Her stomach hit him in the abdomen, keeping them several inches apart, and she laughed.
So did he. He only laughed with this woman, who brought such joy to his soul.
“I want to marry you,” he told her, brushing dark tendrils from her face, glad to have the right to touch her. “So much stands in our way. That hasn’t changed.”
“No, but I have.” She looked different, too. Still his Marie, but there was more to her. Strength and maturity. Like when the sun reached its zenith and had more light and heat. “I want to live with you on this land and raise horses and our children. I have found my place in the world, and it is with you.”
“Now I know I must be dreaming.” He kissed her hard and tenderly. “I never thought I would hold you again. But to have a future with you, Marie, I would do anything for you. My house is plain but it is new—”
“Night Hawk.” She laid her hand on his chest right above his heart. “I want you as you are, don’t you understand? I love everything about you, and I love your ranch. I want only one thing, and that’s all.”
“What? Not a fancy parlor with fine furniture?” He teased, because happiness filled him. And because for the first time he believed
her. She’d traveled all the way from Ohio uncomfortably pregnant with their child. What a difficult journey that must have been. He would never question her again. “What is this one thing I can do for you?”
“Marry me. Now.” She laid her hand on her stomach and moaned. “Because I’m going to have our baby.”
He froze. “Right now?”
“Y-yes.” The moan continued.
“We need the doctor.” He took her by the elbows and supported her. “I’ll carry you back to the house—”
“No.” She laughed and the pain eased from her face, replaced by a great joy. “I’m going to give this baby your name before he’s born, and that’s the way it’s going to be. So go get your horse and take me to the chaplain. I want to be your wife.”
“Then you shall be.” He guided her to a soft patch of grass and knelt with her, helping her to rest. His bride. “I love you, Marie. Just in case I haven’t told you.”
Then he kissed her and ran for the horses.
“Maybe you should lie down in the back.” Night Hawk gazed at her with great concern, as if she were ill instead of simply giving birth.
“I’m fine.” To prove it, she sat straighter on the wagon’s board seat. The pain was getting much worse, but it was a small price to pay. To think she would soon be holding their baby in her arms! “I wonder if he will look like his handsome father? Will he have your eyes?”
“I hope he has your smile.” Night Hawk’s arm gathered her protectively while he held the reins in one hand. “I still think you should lie down.”
“I’m having a baby. I’m not sick.” She didn’t feel well at all, but she felt too happy to complain. “There’s the fort. In a few minutes we’ll be man and wife.”
“Do you want your father to attend?” Night Hawk kissed her brow. “I do not wish to bring up a painful subject, but we’ll marry only this once. I don’t want you to have regrets.”
“My only regret is that my aunt can’t be here. She’s been a mother to me all these years.” She would keep in touch with Aunt Gertrude. Maybe they could send a private coach for her later this summer, when the traveling would be easier.
The steel band tightening around her abdomen clamped again, stealing her breath. Pain knifed through her. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. She didn’t want Night Hawk to know she was in this much pain.
Besides, it would all be over soon. Think of the baby, she told herself. Think of being able to see their son.
The pain didn’t ease, but she did feel stronger.
“Shaylee, I hate that you hurt.” Night Hawk’s kiss was tender on her brow. “We should see the doctor first, then the chaplain.”
“I’m told first babies take a long time. Don’t worry.” She smiled at him. “I intend to do this right. I want to have many more babies with you.”
How proud he looked. How happy. “That would be fine, but let’s see this child safely into the world first. You are what matters to me, Marie.”
“I will be fine. And so will this baby.” It had to be. She hadn’t come all this way to lose her dreams.
The wagon circled the last corner. Mrs. Holmberg stepped out of the mercantile and stopped to stare at them, then waved brightly.
“I wonder if our secret wasn’t as well kept as we thought,” she told him.
“Many people noticed that I was dancing with you at Henry’s ball.” Night Hawk stiffened and drew his team to a stop in front of the fort’s gates. The wagon bounced, then was still.
A guard stood in the open doors, his hand held out, signaling for them to climb down.
“Is there a problem?” Night Hawk asked.
“Seems so, sir.” The private shifted uneasily.
Henry strode into sight in full uniform, his musket slung over one shoulder, polished so that it gleamed in the summer light. “I heard you came back, Marie. John is at the Websters’ right now, packing your things. We have nothing to discuss.”
“No, we don’t.” Marie felt pity for a man who would never know happiness. “I—”
“This is my battle, Marie.” Night Hawk gently addressed her, then climbed from the wagon. “This is attracting attention, and I know you do not like this kind of notice, Henry. Let Marie inside, and you and I will settle this later.”
“She is not welcome here.” Henry growled, though, kept his voice low. “Take her back to your claim.”
“I’m going to marry her, Henry. Your chaplain is the only man who can do it.”
“Then travel to Fort Orchard.” The man stood so straight he looked ready to snap.
“Fort Orchard is fifty miles away.” Night Hawk did not see how a father could treat a child so. “Lower your pride for your daughter’s sake. Let her in. I want to make the child she carries legitimate.”
“I trusted you. I treated you like an equal.” Humiliation flushed the colonel’s face. “And then you slept with my daughter.”
“I am your equal, Henry, and you know it.” Night Hawk heard the wagon step creak behind him and he turned in time to catch Marie’s arm as she climbed down. “Let us in, Henry.”
“I won’t,” he boomed, but something changed on his face when he looked at Marie, so pale and vulnerable.
Marie clutched Night Hawk’s sleeve. “We are going to have to argue about this later, because I’ve changed my mind. I need a doctor right now.”
Night Hawk saw that she was too pale. She was trembling. When he looked down, blood puddled on the dusty earth at her feet.
“Stand aside, Henry.” Night Hawk swept his woman in his arms and pushed through the gates.
No one stopped him as he headed straight for the doctor’s home. He didn’t bother to knock. He kicked the door open and stormed inside.
“Doctor!” he shouted, and a man came running.
The doctor looked from the pregnant woman to the blood staining his polished floor. “Up here. We’ll put her in my bed.”
Night Hawk took the stairs two at a time.
Chapter Eighteen
“This is all your fault,” Henry Lafayette boomed in the doctor’s small parlor.
Night Hawk’s rage doubled. He’d been forced from Marie’s side, and the fury of having to leave her and the image of blood on her skirts pushed him to the rawest edge of control. “Not another word, Henry, or I’ll silence you myself.”
“You did this to her.” The colonel would not back down. “I could have kept her safe—”
“You told her she is no longer your daughter. That makes her welfare none of your concern.” Night Hawk laid his hand on Henry’s chest and pushed him out the door. “Don’t come back unless you can be quiet. She can hear you through the ceiling. Now go.”
He shut the door on the colonel’s shocked face. Good. Let the man think about his role in this. If he could lower his pride enough.
Night Hawk fisted his hands and laid them quietly to the door. He would not harm Marie’s father, no matter how much the man needed a lesson in humility. Then he saw the blood on his hands. Marie’s blood.
Please, don’t let her die. Don’t let the baby die. He sank to his knees, unable to stand. What would he do if he lost Marie?
Pain had overtaken her, raking through her stomach like sharp cruel claws. She felt helpless against it. Unable to fight it. She could hear the doctor speaking to her as if from a great distance. The daylight had seeped from the room and now there was darkness and bright lamplight that hurt her eyes.
The midwife returned to the bedside, her voice kind. “The doctor needs you to push. Don’t give up on us now.”
“I c-can’t.” She felt as if she had no control. She tried to push, but pain tore at her from within at all angles, sharper than the finest blade.
A cool cloth stroked her forehead.
Marie could feel the blood draining from her. The contractions only heightened the pain but didn’t push the baby. Her strength was fading as the night progressed.
The door opened. Let it be Night Hawk, she prayed. But it wa
s a thin, gentle-looking man holding a Bible in his hand. The chaplain. Not here to perform her wedding.
Grief filled her, and she stared at the far wall. Another claw tore through her belly, but she didn’t have the strength to scream. She wanted to see Night Hawk, but they wouldn’t bring him back even when she’d begged. She wanted to at least tell him the name she’d chosen for their son.
But the light seemed so far away. And then there was nothing at all but the pain.
It is too silent. Night Hawk leaped off the sofa and raced to the foot of the stairs. This wasn’t right. Marie’s screams had died long ago, and not even the faint mumble of the doctor and the midwife speaking broke the stillness.
This is the way it feels when someone dies. He’d felt it before, that solemn hush as if the entire world had changed and would never be the same.
No. Grief rent through him greater than any pain. Any suffering. He fought to keep from racing up the stairs and charging into the room. The doctor had told him any distraction could mean death.
What if she was already dead? What then? Had something happened to their baby? Night Hawk forced himself to sit on the bottom stair and stay there. War raged within him. He couldn’t sit helpless like this forever.
The front door flew open and Henry filled the threshold. Candlelight showed his panic. “I saw the chaplain come over here. What happened? Is there—”
“The chaplain is here?” Night Hawk flew to his feet.
“He came in the back way—”
Night Hawk raced up the stairs. He would not wait idly one instant longer. Fury and fear drove him down the hall and into the room.
Into the still, silent room. The doctor was covering Marie’s motionless body with care. The chaplain was seated at the bedside, his head bowed. Night Hawk looked from one to the other and back to Marie, unmoving on the bed.
She was dead. And their baby—
“Night Hawk.” The midwife turned with a small bundle in her arms. “Come and see your son. He’s small, being born early as he was, but he’s strong. Look at him.”
