“There must be a lot of people in the East.”
She laughed lightly. “Oh yes. I’m afraid western settlement has just begun, Brand. In the East people are crowded, overtaxed, a lot of the land spent from farming it for too long. People think they can come out here and get land cheap and start over. Some come for other reasons, dreaming big dreams. Most of them go all the way to California or Oregon Territory. You talk about spirit. There is a spirit in the white man that makes him want to explore, to go places he’s never been, to conquer new lands.”
She turned to face him and their eyes held.
“Is that spirit in you?” he asked.
“I guess it is, to some extent.”
He saw her trembling. “What is wrong, Rachael? You act as though you are upset. Is it that I saw those men, or that I brought you here?”
She wanted desperately to tell him, and yet she could not make the words come. What if she made a grand fool of herself? What if he laughed at her? There was so much more she needed to know about him—things he still had not told her.
“It’s just…I can’t help wondering what it is about Jason Brown that you haven’t told me, Brand. I don’t feel like having a lesson today. I want to talk.” She put a hand to her forehead. “I’m so confused about…things.”
He sat up, frowning. “It is a bad thing I would have to tell you.”
“But I have to know. Jason will be back before long.”
She saw the contempt for Jason Brown in his eyes. “I would not tell you if I was not concerned for your own happiness.”
I love you, Rachael Rivers. He wanted to shout it. I can’t bear the thought of Jason Brown touching you.
“Come and sit down,” he told her. “If you are so determined to know, I will tell you.”
She moved to the blanket, cautiously sitting down as close to the edge as she could. Brand watched her curiously, smiling to himself. She seemed to be struggling to remain reserved and proper. He thought about the look in her eyes earlier. But he told himself he dared not do anything to find out if some kind of passion smoldered beneath her proud chin and the lovely dress she wore.
“I will tell you what you want to know,” he said. He turned around, moving closer to her and facing her. “We are good friends now, so I will tell you about Brand Selby and Jason Brown.”
She could feel his tension growing. He bent his knees and crossed his ankles, resting his elbows on his knees.
“I am glad you would rather talk. It is best you know everything about Jason.” He looked over at a cluster of bluebonnets. “After the massacre at Plum Creek I knew that the old way of life was ending for the Comanche. My father was killed there. That’s when I decided I had to learn the white man’s way. I thought if I could do that, maybe somehow I could help my Comanche friends. I turned to scouting because it was all I knew at the time, and because I could help find renegade Comanche and maybe convince them to go to where they would be safe.
“I met Jason when I started scouting for the Rangers. From the very beginning I didn’t like him. He considered me Comanche, and he didn’t want anything to do with me, even after I saved his life once. He got himself into a knife fight with a Comanche man—Pawing Horse. He thought he could handle the man, but I knew Pawing Horse. Few men could go up against him with a knife and live to tell about it. And Jason had no real experience in that kind of fighting. I jumped in on it and ended up killing Pawing Horse myself.”
She looked at him then—the powerful arms, the wild look about him. She reminded herself that this man had killed other men, that he could probably be as vicious as the wildest Comanche if the situation called for it. A knife fight! How gruesome. And yet he had risked his own life to save Jason’s.
He met her eyes, his own very determined. “Yes, Rachael, I have killed men. I told you that. A man does what he has to do.” He looked away again. “But I have since wished I had let Jason fight Pawing Horse,” he said then. “Then Jason Brown would have died and would not have been around to do some of the other things he has done.” He met her eyes again. “He is afraid of me, all right, because he knows I would like nothing better than to kill him and he knows that I can do it, with ease. I know the kind of man he really is. That scares him, too.”
He got up and walked a few feet away from her. “Jason only got angry after I saved him that day. Apparently he thought I made him look bad. Whenever I was assigned to scout for him, he complained that he wanted an all-white scout, not me. He told them I shouldn’t be allowed to scout for them at all—that I couldn’t be trusted because of my Indian blood. But I was good at what I did and the Rangers wanted me and trusted me.
“I knew that Jason was raiding peaceful Comanche villages, killing women and little children. He never did those things when I was with him, but I heard about them, usually firsthand accounts from the Comanche. He had certain men he rode with who were as bad as he and who would not talk about what he did. And I knew that unless I could prove certain things beyond any doubt, it was useless to say anything. Jason Brown would just deny it and say the Comanche were lying. I think the man was deliberately doing things to keep the Indians stirred up.”
“But why would he do that?”
He turned to face her. “It is something I have thought about for a long time. I have an idea, but I could probably never prove it. I think he deals with the Comancheros for a share of the money they get from the Mexicans.”
“Oh, Brand, surely not!”
“You don’t know him as I do. I think he uses his position for both sides. But who is going to listen to a half-breed, especially one that his superiors know hates Jason Brown.”
She frowned in confusion, looking down at her lap. “It’s so hard to believe,” she said.
“Believe it.” He came closer, kneeling in front of her. “He has a bad heart, Rachael. Once when I was out riding alone, I saw buzzards circling, and when I went to see what it was, I found two dead Comanche, a man and a woman, both of them shot in the head. I buried them, and then I followed tracks that moved away from the spot, curious to see if I could find out what had happened. The tracks led me by nightfall to a campfire, where two men sat talking. I recognized them as those who ride with Jason. They did not see me in the shadows. I moved in closer, and suddenly Jason himself came out of a tent, pushing a naked Comanche girl in front of him. She could not have been more than twelve.”
Rachael shivered and put a hand to her head, her eyes tearing.
“The girl tried to run,” Brand continued. “Jason grabbed his bullwhip and started beating her with it. In the firelight I could see how quickly he drew blood. ‘You little animal,’ Jason was saying. ‘I’ll teach you to bite me.’ He was naked, too, so I knew what he had already done to her. The two men by the fire just laughed while the girl screamed and cried. I hurried in then, ordering him to stop. I pulled my gun on him, but Jason stopped only for a moment, saying I wouldn’t dare shoot him, that I would hang for it. I knew he was probably right. They would say it was worse for me to shoot him than for him to whip the little Indian girl. A white man can torture and kill Indians, but Indians dare not raise a hand against a white man. I am a half-breed. And the two men with Jason would never testify on my behalf.”
He rose again, and she could see him outwardly trembling. “Never in my life have I wanted to kill a man more than I wanted to kill him that night. I ran to the girl and started to pick her up, and Jason lit into me then with the whip. I grabbed the whip and yanked it out of his hand, and he charged at me. I beat him about the head with the handle of the whip until he went down. The other two men just stared at me. They were not sure what to do because I was a valued scout, not just another Comanche. They knew I was very angry, and that I was a good fighter. They were afraid to rise up against me. It was all I could do to keep from killing Jason. I told him that I was going to his superiors and take my chances, and that the next time I caught him at something like that, I would kill him. I came close to it the day I discove
red him whipping the old Indian man. But I decided that day that I had to catch him at something even worse, something involving dealing with white outlaws. Abuse of an Indian is not quite enough to get him kicked out of the Rangers. But if I could prove he is deliberately stirring up more trouble, that would anger the whites against him and get him out of that position. Either way, I knew he was capable of raping and beating little girls.”
She blinked back tears. “Did you go to his superiors?”
“Oh yes,” he answered in a near sneer. “They listened, and they even believed me. But all they did was give their precious Ranger a slap on the hand. ‘He’s done many good things,’ they said. ‘He’s a damn good Ranger. We have to give him the benefit of the doubt.’ I will never forget the look of victory in his eyes. After that I could not bring myself to have anything to do with the Rangers. I quit scouting and went to work for Oscar Kruger, the rancher I told you about. His ranch is far from here, and I stayed away a long time. But I know that to this day it worries Jason that I know what I know. He would never want any of the people he knows in Austin to know that he raped a mere child, even though she was Indian; or even that he whipped that old man. And I am sure he has done other things no one even knows about. But like I say, I need proof. I am not sure how I will get it, but I thought about it a lot while I worked for Mr. Kruger. I dreamed of coming back here and making Jason Brown a very nervous man.”
Rachael rose, looking up at him. “So, that’s why you came back here. There’s more to it than just settling and going into ranching.”
He watched her closely. “Yes. I cannot erase from my mind the things he has done.”
She stepped closer, touching his arm. “Brand, what you’re thinking is dangerous.”
His eyes glittered with hatred. “Dangerous for Jason Brown. Not for me.” He grasped her arms then. “Stay away from him, Rachael. I asked you once before. Now you know just how vicious the man can be. And I can’t bear…” He swallowed, his jaw flexing with repressed emotions, a new look coming into his eyes, an almost pleading look. “If you want to know the truth, I cannot bear the thought of Jason Brown touching you.” His voice changed to a gruff whisper. “I can’t stand the thought of any man touching you. You’re the most beautiful creature I have ever set eyes on, Rachael Rivers, and the kindest, bravest white woman I have ever known.”
He let go of her, backing away slightly. “I think perhaps we should stop meeting. I will find another way to learn.”
Her eyes teared, and she stood trembling. “I…don’t want to stop meeting.”
Their eyes held, each afraid to believe what they saw there.
“It’s too hard, Rachael,” he said. He swallowed again, looking suddenly like a nervous little boy. “My feelings for you…are too strong. I have never desired a woman the way I desire you, and I can no longer trust myself around you. But you are too good for me, and too precious to—”
“Brand!” She stepped closer, one tear slipping down her cheek. “Are you saying you love me?”
His eyes were watery, and he stood rigid, fists clenched. “More than my own life,” he said in a near whisper.
She sniffed, wiping away the tear, but more kept coming. “Oh, Brand, I love you, too. Surely you know that. I’ve…needed to say it for so long.”
He watched her in surprise, his heart pounding with joy and desire. He stepped closer, daring to reach out for her, and she seemed to nearly collapse against him, breaking into a torrent of tears.
“Hold me, please, just hold me,” she sobbed, wrapping her arms around his waist.
He moved his powerful arms around her, and Rachael clung to him, glorying in the feel of Brand’s arms around her, at last!
“Rachael,” he whispered.
Chapter Eleven
Now that he held her, it felt so right, so very right.
Rachael felt one of his hands move up her back and under her hair. He gently tangled her golden tresses in his fingers, gripping her hair lightly so that her head tilted back. She felt his lips trace their way over her forehead, down to kiss her eyes, then to kiss the tears on her cheeks.
“I love you, Rachael Rivers,” he said softly. “Please don’t cry.”
The touch of his lips to her face sent fire through her body, and new, wonderful sensations began to sweep over her, pushing away the tears. She knew his lips would find her mouth, knew it would be bold of her to let their lips meet. Yet she could not bring herself to stop him. She didn’t want to stop him. She had wondered too long what this would be like; wondered what a kiss from Brand Selby would be like compared to Jason Brown; wondered if she would feel the same passion her mother had felt for her father; if she would know, as her mother had known, that this was the man meant for her.
She kept her eyes closed as his lips traced their way to her mouth. Aching passion surged through her insides when their lips finally met. She felt like a wanton woman for letting him part her mouth, for delighting in utter ecstasy at the feel of his tongue lightly tasting the inside of her lips. Her feelings turned from curiosity and innocent delight to heated desire as the kiss lingered and grew more demanding.
Brand Selby was in full command of her body, her heart, all senses of reason. Surely the proper thing to do would be to pull away and not let this continue, but the kiss was so utterly sweet, so very gentle and yet commanding. It was as though they were both suddenly unable to satisfy their appetites.
Yes! Surely this was what her mother had been talking about. It was all so natural, as though she had known him forever, as though he belonged to her, and she to him. Both of them were trembling as he left her lips. He pressed her tight against himself, and she knew he was pleased with the feel of her breasts against his chest. She felt a hardness against her belly as he kept hold of her hair, holding her head against his shoulder, kissing her hair. She knew what she felt, and her mind raced with a mixture of fear and curiosity, apprehension and excitement. She did not know all the intricacies of mating, but she knew what it was, what men and women in love did together to get children. The thought made her gasp and hold him tighter, for she knew that in spite of her fears she wanted no other man to do such a thing to her. With someone like Jason it would be humiliating and painful. But she knew already that with Brand Selby, it would be beautiful.
He moved an arm from around her and shifted it under her hips, lifting her in his arms. She opened her eyes to meet his, seeing there watery tears mixed with intense desire. “Now you truly will be my woman,” he told her. Their eyes held as he stood there with her in his arms.
An aching need swelled deep inside her at the meaning of his words. “It’s…not right,” she said in a near whisper. “It’s too soon.”
“Not by Indian custom,” he answered. “When such a need comes, it is done, and the man and woman are husband and wife. The piece of paper your people insist on having makes no sense. The spirits brought us together. If the spirits say it is good, nothing can make us be apart.”
“But you’ll think less of me,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes.
A soft smile moved over his mouth. “I could never think of you as anything but the most wonderful woman I have ever known.” He pressed her closer. “Tell me you don’t love me. Tell me you don’t want me as much as I want you.”
Their eyes remained locked as she sniffed in another sob. “You know I do,” she answered, her voice tiny from crying.
He did not let her continue. He met her mouth again in a harder, more demanding kiss. His tongue moved deeper, searching, teasing, taking command. When he left her lips she felt weak, defeated. This had all built up in her for too long. It felt so good to let go of her feelings, so good to let someone else be in control.
Her heart pounded as he carried her back to the blanket and lay her on it. She made no protest as he rose to his knees and removed the vest he wore. His chest and shoulders were magnificent, and as he bent closer he hovered over her like some powerful, wild being, his long hair touching
her shoulders. He rested on his elbows above her, moving one leg over her thighs. Every muscle in her body seemed to tighten as a fear of the unknown began to creep through her.
He placed a big, dark hand against the side of her face. “Rachael,” he said softly. “Don’t be afraid. This is the happiest day of my life, for I have loved you from the moment I first set eyes on you from across the river. I have dreamed of tangling my fingers in your golden hair as I do now, dreamed of tasting your mouth…” He began kissing her lightly about the face. “Dreamed of seeing you lying naked beneath me, offering your breasts like sweet fruit…” He nibbled at her lips. “Dreamed of being one with you, putting my life inside you, giving you pleasure in return.”
He met her lips then in another hungry kiss. All fear, all common sense, all thoughts of what was proper left her in that moment. She had never wanted anything so badly in her whole life as she wanted Brand Selby to make a woman of her. She closed her eyes and let him unbutton her dress. He pushed it open, his lips moving lightly over her chest as he untied her undergarment.
She gasped as a big, rough hand moved inside the undergarment and pushed it to one side to gently caress her breast. She whispered his name as he lightly rubbed over her nipple until it peaked in aching response. He whispered something in the Comanche tongue, and in the next moment her breathing came quicker as his warm, moist lips settled over her nipple. She still wondered at how easy it all was, how natural. She wondered if she would faint from sheer ecstasy.
He whispered beautiful words of love, sometimes speaking softly in the Comanche tongue, as he pulled the dress and undergarment all the way off her shoulders and to her waist. He tossed the stiff undergarment aside, and she shivered with tense apprehension and overwhelming excitement as she let him slip the dress down over her hips.
The Bride Series (Omnibus Edition) Page 54
