by Kayn, Debra
"This feels –she moaned–so good."
"Told you."
She lowered her chin and smiled up at Trace. "Crazy, but wonderful."
"You're wonderful." He trailed his finger down the wet tendril running down the side of her cheek and catching on her lower lip.
Her wet, pink tongue came out and skimmed the tip of his finger. His body reacted violently from the soft caress, and he captured her face with both of her hands. He strummed her lips with his thumb and pulled her against him.
She stared up into his eyes.
"Joan…?"
"Please…" Her soft plea filled him, stroking his heart.
He lowered his head, an inch from her mouth and hovered there, inhaling her sweet scent. She closed her eyes and rose up on her tiptoes. He gently nudged her mouth with his.
"Hey. Get in here." Brody bellowed from the door.
Trace dropped his arms, panting. Joan reached up, touched her lips, and seemed to question him with her stare. He turned away.
His fantasy ruined. He'd never share Joan with anyone, but she wasn't his to keep.
"I'm heading out to check the east pasture when the lightning stops. You both better get inside." Brody jumped off the porch. "I'll grab the cell phone in the stables in case I need help."
Trace nodded and dragged his wet hair behind his shoulders. "Check on Thunderbolt too."
"Hell, he probably lives for storms. He's aptly named." Brody ducked his head and ran off toward the barn.
Joan had taken his distraction with Brody to escape back into the house. He sighed.
He hopped up the steps, grabbed his crutches, and trailed a wet path to his wing of the house. What the hell am I doing?
***
After changing out of her wet clothes, Joan stood outside Trace's bedroom door. She knocked, but he didn't answer.
She rapped on the wood again. "Trace?"
He swung the door open with a towel draped over his shoulders. "Yeah?"
Joan held up a hair dryer. "We need to get your cast dry, or it'll cause all sorts of problems."
Stepping back, he let her inside. She gazed behind him. It was the first time she'd sought him out in his private bedroom.
Unlike the rest of the house, and even his sitting room in his wing, the bedroom screamed lonely. With only a bed and plain dresser, the starkness took her by surprise. There were no knickknacks scattered about or any signs that he slept and spent a good amount of his time in here.
The walls were white, with no pictures hanging on them. Even the bed was dressed with a bland, gray cover. Without anywhere for him to sit, she motioned toward the mattress.
"Go ahead and get comfy. I'll see if I can find an electrical outlet close enough to reach you." She stepped around him and spied one by the foot of the bed.
Joan kneeled at his feet. "There's usually a lot of cotton padding around the edges of a cast, so I'm hoping you didn't create too much damage. If you're lucky, the rain didn't make it down to where the doctor operated and the skin is still tender."
"It's fine." He leaned back on his arms and stuck his leg over the side of the bed.
Setting the hair dryer on cool, she gently directed the stream of air down his cast. The steady hum filled the uncomfortable silence stretching between them. She'd tried to ignore the way they drew toward one another when they were alone, but she couldn't stop. Every little activity they did together made it inevitable that they'd touch.
He would have kissed her out there in the rain, and she wouldn't have stopped him. Knowing she had no control around him was both thrilling and scary. She no longer believed he would fire her for acting on her feelings, but she couldn't keep working this way. After she finished drying his cast, they were going to talk.
Twenty minutes later, she unplugged the dryer. Trace grabbed his crutches, but she placed her hand on his knee stopping him.
"Can you wait a minute?" She sat down on the bed beside him.
"It's all dry. No harm done." He patted his leg. "See?"
"That's not what I need to talk to you about." She shifted to the side and faced him. "We need to talk about what's going on between us. You were about to kiss me again out there, and—"
"I'm a man." He shrugged. "I apologize."
"That's a shitty excuse." She shook her head. "Don't give me that tough act. I know you better than that. You'd no sooner let your emotions get the better of you than I would ignore someone bleeding at the side of the road."
He stared for the longest moment, and finally huffed in agreement.
"The other day you said it was just a kiss, and I went on to believe you. Today, you wanted to kiss me. I could see it in your face."
"So?"
"So…what's going through your head? Is this a way to entertain yourself while you recuperate or what?" She glanced away. "I don't want to be part of any game."
"I'm not playing you," he muttered.
"Then what's going on?" She turned back to him, and placed her hand on his leg. "I liked it when you kissed me. I thought I made that clear."
He nodded. "You did."
"Then is it so wrong to talk about what happened? If you want to kiss me, just do it. If you don't, tell me to stop thinking about it."
"I'm not interested in a relationship." He rubbed the spot above his heart. "Not with you or anyone else."
She stiffened. "Ever?"
"It was my fault this much has happened. I didn't mean to confuse you." He stood his crutches up and pulled himself off the bed. "I apologize."
She frowned.
He stood up and hobbled to the door, opened it, and waited for her to leave. "It won't happen again, Joan."
Chapter Sixteen
The Sun Dance was a big enough celebration at the reservation, Trace made sure he would be well rested and strong enough to go. His leg was healing as expected, per the doctor visit yesterday, and he'd received the okay to put weight on the new walking cast he'd have to wear for the last week. It'd bolstered his spirit to hear in seven days, the contraption would come off, and the real work would start.
It was fitting that the Sun Dance came at the same time he celebrated the next stage in his recovery. Difficulties would still challenge him, but he'd been down this road before.
He wasn't afraid of the pain and discomfort that would come after the cast came off. Staying inside the house, and away from the horses, left him antsy and he was looking forward to a more regular routine. He wanted to feel whole again, and get back to his life.
Besides, the sooner Joan finished the job, the better.
She'd upset his routine, left him questioning his purpose, and putting ideas in his head that had no place being there. After their first kiss, he'd kept his distance. He played it safe. Then little by little, she'd become more than a temptress making his life both heaven and hell. She'd become someone special to him.
He found himself unable to stay away from her, taking more and more.
There were all kinds of women on the reservation and nearby in Durham who wanted a one-night stand and a good time. After Joan left, he'd scratch his itch, and be out the door before the woman could put any demands on him. Women like Joan were different. He could never ruin her life by getting involved with her romantically.
She deserved roses and wine, picket fences, and husbands who never doubted their ability to love. He hooked the Velcro on the bottom of his jeans. Joan had surprised him last night with a pair of his newer jeans, tailored for his new cast. Damned if it didn't feel good to be back in regular clothes, and if he didn't look too closely, he could almost forget he had a cast on his lower leg.
The ends of his hair were still damp, but he slipped his black shirt on anyway. Rolling the sleeves to his elbows, he checked himself in the mirror only fast enough to make sure he looked okay, and then strolled through his wing of the house and out to the main living room. He nodded at the others upon entering the room.
It appeared he was the last one ready to go.
&
nbsp; Brody had gone separately with Joan, so she could stop at her apartment and change into one of her dresses. Trace had kept his mouth shut about the whole deal. He didn't want her going to the dance, and he certainly didn't want Brody taking her back to her apartment alone.
He'd done some prying into Joan's life, and found out she lived above the rundown bakery they'd stopped at in Durham. Knowing she lived in the poorer part of town, alone, didn't set well with him.
After making his way outside, he climbed into the crew cab. The yearly celebration of his people should have filled him with hope and pride. Instead, nerves and shame consumed him. He tried to tell himself he went for the children, and not because of his respect for his people that'd been beat into him by his father.
He'd escaped.
Hopefully, the kids who were in the same downward spiral he'd lived through would learn that there was hope through him. For tonight, he'd show them what appeared to be the ideal life. No one would see what was going on inside his head.
Twenty minutes later, Devon pulled into the main entrance behind a matching truck with Lakota Ranch stenciled on the tailgate. "Looks like we caught up with Brody and Joan."
He peered out the window. He had a bad feeling she'd regret coming with them tonight. This wasn't her life, and she'd never understand the reasons behind the celebration.
"Trace, what do you know about Joan's living situation?" Devon asked.
He shrugged. "She lives in an apartment in the old business loop of town, above a bakery."
"I wonder why she's not married, or at least have a serious boyfriend. She's a beautiful woman. It seems strange that no one has snapped her up. Not that there's anything wrong with the single life, but she's hot." Devon shook his head. "We better make sure she stays with one of us through the evening. I wouldn't want her to wander off. It was hard enough convincing the counsel to let us bring a visitor, we don't want any problems. They are getting stricter on keeping the public away from any celebration or powwow."
Trace was more interested in what was happening inside the truck parked beside them when Brody exited the vehicle and reached inside the cab for Joan. Jealousy fueled him as Joan scooted to the edge of the seat, and Brody picked her up by the waist and stood her on the ground. Whatever Brody said left Joan smiling.
The wispy, pastel green sundress fluttered around Joan's legs. She'd left her hair loose, lying over her bare shoulders. His breath caught in his chest. Opening his door, he stood in place letting his leg get used to the weight after the ride. A primal urge to push Brody away from Joan hit him hard.
Instead, he limped past the group, ignoring Joan completely, and disappeared inside the community center.
***
Joan frowned, watching the swinging of the door where he'd disappeared behind. "Is he okay? Maybe I should go check on him. He's not used to walking around this much in his new cast. His leg might be hurting him."
"He's fine." Brody placed his hand on Joan's back and led her in the same direction. "These celebrations stress him out, but he'll survive. He find a corner and bide his time, the way he always does."
Joan followed, entering the dance in time to see Trace do exactly what Brody predicted. She raked her teeth over her bottom lip. Why did he put himself through the pain of returning to the life that had treated him worse than garbage?
Brody wound his way through the crowd, stopping several times to converse with people he knew. Joan used the next few minutes paying attention to what was going on inside the room. Only searching for Trace when Brody stopped to chat, but she'd lost him in the throng of people.
Men played drums in the corner of the room, and women hustled around carrying plates of food and taking care of young children. She tapped her foot to the music, waiting for Brody, who'd turned his back to her and was hugging a Lakota woman.
"Joan?" Brody swung around. "This is my younger sister, Shelly."
The woman's smile matched Brody's happy expression. Shelley was petite and had the round face of someone who had spent most of their life laughing.
She held out her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Shelly."
"Brody says you're living at Lakota ranch, taking care of Trace." Shelley leaned closer. "Is there any hope that you will fall madly in love with my brother?"
Joan laughed. "I'm afraid we spend too much time picking on each other, we'd drive each other crazy by the end of the week. Has Brody always been a joker?"
Shelley rolled her eyes. "Yes. He's always been a pain in our butts. That's why we, my sisters, are looking to marry him off. We're afraid he'll grow old and move back with one of us."
"Hey…you love me. Everyone does." Brody folded his arms and stuck his chin up. "I won't believe any differently."
"That's the problem. We need to find someone who loves you more than yourself." Shelley patted Brody's cheek. "Your ego is too big, brother. The extra weight is going to make you fall on your face one day."
Brody pulled Joan away from Shelley. She laughed, enjoying the sibling teasing. Her and Katie had the same kind of relationship. They understood each other, and they always found something to laugh about when they were together. God, Katie, I miss you.
"Come on, let's dance." Brody pulled her out in the middle of the room.
She stood in shock, not moving. "I don't know what to do."
"Watch." He hopped from one foot to the other. "Listen to the base drum sound."
She studied him, swaying back and forth. The others were forming a circle and Brody stepped back to join in. She gazed around her, stuck inside the chain of people. A moment of panic consumed her. Not one who had much coordination, she always shied away from dancing.
Waiting until Brody worked his way around the perimeter back to her, she cut in between him and another man. They each grabbed onto her hands, and swept her around with them. She stumbled, and laughed. The smiles and curious glances aimed at her gave her encouragement to try to keep up with the music.
Five minutes later, she pulled out of the group and leaned against the wall out of breath. Brody joined her, and she leaned her head on his shoulder.
"I'm so out of shape." She fanned her face with her hand. "That's one heck of an aerobic workout."
"You did great." He pointed. "See the group of men over there. The ones with their shirts off and in traditional Lakota dress?"
Seven men danced alone, away from the others. Their skin glistened in the lights from all the sweat coating their bodies. Tan breechcloths skimmed the top of their thighs, and they all wore knee-high moccasins laced tight and nothing else. She raised her brows, impressed. With not an inch of fat on their hard bodies, they appeared strong and able.
"This is the first Sun ceremony they're getting to participate in. For the last twenty-four days, they have prayed and meditated in sweat lodges, preparing for this weekend. They started dancing outside when the sun came up this morning, and moved inside to continue dancing while everyone else celebrates and eats. Tonight, they'll move back outside and dance as the sun goes down. That's where the official ceremony will take place." Brody leaned closer. "No one is to bother them, but offer support so that they can fulfill their journey."
"Can they not stop and take a break?" She blew her bangs out of her face.
"Yes, they may stop if absolutely necessary." Brody grinned. "Although, the competition to be the most devoted usually wins out over having to rest."
"This is all new to me." Joan shook her head. "But, I'm fascinated."
"If you notice, there are no other guests allowed inside the center when a ceremony is being performed, but we were able to request special permission for you." Brody motioned for her to follow. "Let's get something to drink."
She'd gone a half dozen steps when a little boy ran into her legs and bounced off, landing on his rear. He stared up at her with eyes the size of quarters. She bent at the waist and helped him to his feet.
"Are you okay? That was quite the tumble you took." She straightened his shirt to cover
his rounded belly.
He nodded, and continued to stare at her with a curiosity she found charming. She tucked her dress around her legs, and kneeled down.
The child dropped his gaze to her feet and poked her heels with a tiny finger. His shaggy brown hair covered his eyes. She ran her fingers over the top of his head, pushing his hair back.
She smiled. "Are you having fun?"
"I dance." He giggled.
She guessed he was three or four. "Oh, I bet that is fun."
"Hey, little man." Brody swept the child up in his arms. "Where's your Ina?"
"Leksi!" The boy wrapped his arms around Brody's neck.
"This little guy's name is Squirrel. He's my nephew." Brody leaned down to Joan. "I better take him back to my sister, Christy, who no doubt is searching for him. He has a habit of disappearing. I'll be right back. Why don't you find Trace or Devon? They can help you grab something to eat before everyone heads outside."
She smiled and tickled Squirrel's side making him break out in giggles again. "Go on, take care of this cutie. I'll be fine."
Winding her way toward the back of the room, she broke away from the mass. She searched the far wall until she found who she was looking for. Goosebumps broke out along her arms.
Trace, outfitted in black from head to toe, leaned against the wall piercing her with his gaze. Warmth replaced the chill from earlier, and she walked toward him. He shouldn't have to stand by himself at a party.
"Hi." She scooted beside Trace and leaned against the wall. "Brody had to return his nephew to his sister, and told me to find you."
"You shouldn't be here." He glanced down at her. "It's no place for a woman like you."
Taken aback, she stood there not knowing what to say. His attitude of late, wore on her patience. She'd tried to understand the demons he fought, but she could only imagine what he was thinking most of the time.
There were times, like now, where she came up empty handed, where she doubt if he even liked her as a friend. His indifference angered her.
