He had rolled her on to her back and she was vitally aware that the only thing that separated his engorged manhood from her virginity was the thin barrier of her pantaloons. In her wildest imaginings she had never even suspected that a woman was capable of having such uncontrollable desires. She throbbed and burned with such intense feelings that she could only arch her body upward and pray for release.
White Owl ignored her immediate demands and focused on letting his fevered mouth assault her breasts. His tongue teased and his lips nipped gently on the taut nipples that had instantly responded to his touch. Rose tilted her head back into the soft grass and drew in a shaky breath. This was torture . . . pure, wondrous, fabulous torture!
His lips moved up to her exposed neck and began to bestow more kisses on the soft skin below her chin and around her ears. Her hardened nipples pressed against his muscled chest as he lowered his full weight upon her. His lips continued to move up past her chin and settled on her lips again, while his hand tugged on the waistband of her pantaloons. Rose helped him out by lifting her hips, and in a joint effort, the flimsy barrier joined the dress and camisole somewhere in the deep grass. With one easy movement, White Owl’s breechcloth was tossed away, and there was nothing left to separate their fervent bodies.
Rose braced herself for the pain her mother had warned her about. Thinking of her mother at this instant seemed immoral somehow, so Rose quickly concentrated on the way his lips were seeking hers again. One of his hands had worked its way between her legs, and the tips of his fingers were tenderly rubbing her in way that made her want to scream with delicious pleasure.
Her body arched upward as his mouth covered hers, and before she realized it, he was entering her, stealing away her pained cry with a forceful kiss.
The stabbing pain was brief but intense, and she braced herself for more pain when he began to move slowly within her. To her surprise and delight, the pain faded and in its place were a hundred different magical sensations that continued to build until there was a feeling that she could not even begin to comprehend, and it overpowered everything she had ever known in her existence up to this moment.
“I am sorry about your dress,” White Owl said in a tone that did not sound all that regretful. He was trying to figure out how to make it stay together, but only two buttons had been left intact, and there was no way to fasten the dress back together. Her delicate camisole was far beyond repair. Rose figured these were just small problems compared to the one she would have once she returned home. The unbridled passion, though hardly gone, was now invaded by the nagging fear and reality.
She had been gone for hours, and it would probably be dark before she reached home. Nothing she could say would pacify her father’s rage. She didn’t want White Owl to sense her anxiety, though, so she tried to pretend to be calm.
“Maybe I can find a jacket or something in the barn when I get home and no one will notice,” Rose said.
“You’re worried about your father,” White Owl stated.
Rose turned away from him as she slipped into her pantaloons and pulled them up under her dress. She felt a heated flame in her face and thought how silly it was to feel shy now. Just as she was trying to concentrate on all the incredible things they had just done and not think about her father, she realized White Owl was suddenly behind her, and then turning her around to face him again. Her gaze was instantly drawn to his face. He seemed to know exactly what she was thinking.
“I cannot bear the thought of you suffering,” he said as his fingers traced along the line of her jaw. “Don’t go back. Stay with me.”
His words, though completely unfeasible, meant more than Rose could even begin to tell him. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to stay with him forever. “I have to go home,” she said sadly.
She saw the crushing look filter through his handsome face and wished she could be in two places at once. “I will tell my family about us.” Doubt clouded his eyes. “I will. Somehow, I will find a way. And then I’ll come back, and I’ll never leave again.”
His fingers continued to gently rub the side of her face. “It is not that easy, my Wild Rose.”
The sadness in his voice and his sorrowful expression made a strange sense of foreboding grip Rose. She drew in a shaky breath. “I will be back,” she said in a forceful tone. Why was he acting as if this was their last moments together?
“I will ride with you for a while,” he said as he pulled his hand away from her face. “We should hurry before your father comes looking for you.”
Rose nodded feebly and headed toward Molly. Before she could swing herself onto the mare’s back, his strong hands had grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up to the back of her horse. She leaned back down and kissed him without hesitation. Her long hair engulfed them both. Their lips lingered together for a moment after the kiss ended.
They rode side by side in silence until they reached the trail along Milk Creek, where she crossed over into her parents’ land. The sun was starting to set in the western sky. Rose felt like something inside her was about to explode. They had just shared the most extraordinary experience a man and a woman could share, and yet they could not find anything to talk about now. Did he already regret what had happened?
“This is as far as I go,” he said, breaking in on her worried thoughts.
Rose couldn’t stand it one second longer. His lack of communication for the long distance that they had ridden together had fueled her imagination, as she spat, “I guess I didn’t pass the test, so now you can just move on to the next willing girl until you find one that you like. That’s how it works, isn’t it?”
“What are you saying?” He was off his horse now and pulling her down from Molly’s back.
Rose attempted to get away, but his grip on her arms was almost painful and she could not move. His sudden movement did not frighten her, but the anger it caused rushed through her like hot lava. “That is how it works, isn’t it?” she repeated through gritted teeth.
She glared up at him, waiting to hear his excuses and expecting to see this truth on his face. Instead, his dark features were contorted in pain.
“I have no intention of being with another woman after today,” he replied.
Rose peered into his ebony gaze, but she could not read his thoughts. “Then why are you acting so strange?”
He released his hold on her and hung his head down in a defeated manner. “I worry because—” He paused and shook his head as he looked back up. “I care too much. I have already broken the promise I made to myself and to my father.”
Confusion spun through Rose’s mind. “What promise?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “That I would not do something that would make things worse between my people and the whites.”
Rose stepped back, but Molly prevented her from going any farther. “Then you do regret what happened today,” she said in a raspy voice. Her heart felt as if it was shattering into thousands of pieces.
A crooked smile touched his lips. “Wild Rose, I have never regretted anything less in my life than making love to you today. But I can’t help worrying that falling in love with you will be the worst thing that could happen to you—and to our families.”
“What?” Rose whispered. Her heart skipped a beat. “Did you just say l-love?”
He chuckled. “Love,” he repeated. “I know enough to be certain what that word means in your language.”
Rose smiled as their gazes locked. “Yes, and it also means that we will find a way to be together—no matter what it takes.”
“I love you, Wild Rose,” White Owl said hoarsely before he stole away her breath with another intoxicating kiss.
Chapter Ten
The sun had already set by the time Rose rode over the ridge that led to her parents’ homestead. She had rehearsed her excuse over and over again, but even to her own ears, it was a feeble and unbelievable explanation. The idea of such a blatant lie made her feel sick to her stomach.
Now, as she watched her father and two brothers riding toward her, she braced herself for the onslaught of anger and accusations that she knew would come.
“Rosaline!” her father yelled as they approached. “We were just getting ready to head over to the agency to ask for help to look for you.”
“Where have you been?” Tate spat out. His narrowed gaze moved over her as he shook his head with disgust.
Donavan, dear Donavan, just looked relieved.
“I’m sorry,” Rose gasped, focusing her attention on her father. “I-I had a little accident, but I’m fine.”
They were all surrounding her now, and she hoped that the daylight had faded enough so they couldn’t see the heat raging through her cheeks. Her father’s angry expression softened slightly.
“Are you hurt?” he asked gruffly. His gaze raked over her and as he realized that her dress was torn, the look of rage returned. “What happened to you, girl?”
Rose cringed. She had no doubt what he was probably thinking. Now she would discover just how good of a liar she really was. “I took a tumble from Molly, that’s all.” She tried to sound nonchalant. “I was exploring and—”
“You what?” Her father’s voice echoed through the air. “What is wrong with you, girl?” He shook his fist at Rose as Tate decided to give her his opinion, too.
“You are so stupid,” her twin hollered. “I think you are hopin’ them Injuns kidnap you.”
Although she had known what to expect, Rose had no energy left to fight with Tate. She looked back at her father and added, “I’m sorry that I worried you, Pa.” She thought about adding that it wouldn’t happen again, but that would just be another lie.
Her father was so filled with rage that he was unable to speak. He shook his head and muttered under his breath as he swung his horse around and rode back down the slope. Tate glared at her once more before he followed their father.
Rose exhaled a heavy breath and looked at Donavan. His sorrowful expression caused a sharp pain to rip through her chest as he looked at her.
“I’m really glad you’re all right, Rosie,” he said quietly. “Ma’s been real scared, too.”
Tears flooded her vision and burned trails down her cheeks.
Donavan gasped, “What is it, Rosie? Are you really hurt?”
She attempted to stop the guilty sobs as she shook her head vigorously. “I’m fine, Donavan. I just so feel bad that I made everyone worry.” The terrible guilt, combined with the overwhelming regret that she might not be able to see White Owl again, was almost more than she could handle and it was impossible to stop the tears.
Donavan moved his horse closer to Molly and reached out to pat her on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Rosie. Just don’t go ridin’ no more.”
The agonized sob that shook her body caused Donavan’s sympathetic gestures to increase and his gentle pats became more like slaps against her shoulder. Rose knew she had to get her emotions under control, and then she could figure out what she would do next.
“I’m fine, really,” she gasped as she took a deep breath. She gently pushed her little brother’s hand away from her shoulder. “I need to see Ma and tell her I’m sorry for making her worry.” She kicked Molly in the sides as she added, “Thanks, Donavan.”
He shrugged and nudged his horse down the incline. By the time they reached the bottom it was nearly dark, but Rose could see her mother waiting on the front stoop of the house holding a lantern. Rose’s insides twisted into a tight ball. This was hopeless. She was going to hurt them all so badly. But after today, there was no way she could avoid it.
Donavan took Molly to the barn so Rose could go to her mother’s waiting arms. The tears that had started earlier had not stopped, and they only increased when her mother wrapped her arms tightly around her. “I’m so sorry, Mama,” she whispered into her mother’s ear.
“You’re here now, so nothin’ else matters,” Ma whispered back through her own choked voice.
They lingered on the porch for a moment longer before her mother pulled back and said, “Clean yourself up while I get you something to eat. Then, you can tell me what happened.”
Rose shook her head. “I’m not hungry—just tired. And there’s nothing to tell really. I rode too far, and then I fell off Molly and”—she motioned over her shoulder—“my dress got ripped. That’s all there is to it.” She glanced away from her mother as they entered the lighted interior of the house. The lie was not getting any easier to repeat.
“I’ll check your back for cuts and bruises,” Ma said as she reached out toward her daughter.
“No!” The word was harsher than Rose meant for it to be. “I landed in the grass. I’m not h-hurt.” That was almost too close to the truth. Rose turned away from her mother for fear that she would notice. “I’ll be in my room.”
To her surprise, her mother made no attempt to stop her. This made her feel even worse. Her poor mother had been frantic with worry, and all she wanted to do was take care of her, but Rose had yelled at her instead. She threw herself on the bed facedown and tried to sort through her whirling thoughts. She loved her family, she did, but she couldn’t be here any longer. Not now—not after White Owl, because she loved him even more.
She rolled over and stared at nothing as the tears continued to fall. Now her thoughts and worries about her family were invaded by the memory of this afternoon. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, but it was his arms that she was remembering . . . White Owl’s powerful arms, his smooth, bronzed skin, the way his thick raven hair hung over his bare shoulders, his tenderness as he had taken her on the sensuous journey that transformed her from an innocent girl to a woman—his woman. Her mind became filled with so many sweet, passionate memories of their glorious afternoon. A slow ache worked through her entire body, and an incendiary flame settled in her loins. Nothing could keep her from going back to him.
Breakfast the next morning was strange and awkward. Everyone was polite, but nothing was said about the events of the day before. Rose kept waiting for the fight with her father and Tate to begin: the accusations about her selfishness from Tate and the reminder that she was disobedient and careless from her father. But they said nothing, and Rose grew nervous.
Even her mother was unusually quiet as they cooked the morning meal of flapjacks and fresh eggs that Rose had gathered earlier from the hen-house. Her mother had asked if she was feeling better when she had first emerged from her room this morning, but that was it—no more questions from anyone else.
Donavan smiled tentatively at Rose as they all settled around the table, but before she could respond, he quickly looked away as if he had been instructed not to speak to her. Rose’s uneasiness increased.
“Me and the boys are headed over to the Richards’ place to check on that horse they have for sale,” her father said as he pushed his empty plate toward the center of the table. He glanced at his wife. “I trust you womenfolk will be safe if you stay close to the house.” He did not look in Rose’s direction, adding, “The shotgun is loaded.”
Rose glanced at the gun by the door as a sense of dread clutched at her breast. She opened her mouth to attempt to make amends about yesterday, but once again, she could not bring herself to make promises that she knew she would not keep. As her brothers and father departed, Rose was left alone with her mother and a chance to apologize. “Mama, about last night, I—”
“Rosaline,” Ma interrupted. “I’ve known you for more than eighteen years. I know there’s something goin’ on with you, and I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready.” She raised her hand up and shook her head when Rose tried to speak. “All I ask is that you don’t do something crazy to get yourself hurt—or worse. I would never forgive myself, or your pa for that matter, if something happened to one of my children because of our decision to come out here to this wilderness. Sometimes I think we should have stayed in Denver.”
Rose hung her head and stared at the floorboards as her mother’s words spun through h
er mind. Finally, when she felt she could speak without choking up, she said, “I am sorry, Mother. I don’t intentionally want to hurt you or Pa.” She glanced up and looked into the blue eyes that mirrored her own, adding, “But we moved here because we wanted to be a part of this beautiful wild country. I want to explore every inch of it and learn everything there is to know.” She sighed. “I don’t know how to explain to you just how much I love it here. I thank the good Lord above every day that we didn’t stay in Denver.”
They stared at one another for a moment until Colleen sighed, too. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say something like that, because it would make this all so much easier.”
Rose’s brows drew together. “What are you talking about?”
“Your pa and I were thinkin’ that maybe you might want to go back to Denver and stay with your Aunt Maggie for a spell and—”
“No!” Rose gasped. “Never. I wouldn’t go back to Denver.”
The look of surprise on her mother’s face went unnoticed by Rose as the idea of leaving White Owl brought her to the brink of hysteria. “Never!” she cried out again.
“It was just a thought,” her mother said. “I—we didn’t know, I mean, we just don’t understand why you insist on putting yourself in such danger.” She reached out in an attempt to soothe her daughter, but Rose backed away. “I’ll try to make your father understand,” she added in a worried tone.
Rose took a deep breath, trying to calm her frantic heartbeat. There was no way her family could send her away. If they even suggested it again, she would leave on her own. But she would not be going to her Aunt Maggie’s in Denver.
“I won’t go,” Rose murmured as she backed toward the front door. She twirled around and ran out of the house, not trusting herself to stay with her mother for another minute. She was too close to telling her mother exactly why she refused to leave here, and she knew that she could not blurt out her confession in the heat of anger. She would tell them when the time was right, but she hadn’t figured out when that would be yet.
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