by Anita Mills
“Why didn’t you go with him today to the agency?” Josie asked.
“I don’t want to interfere too much. I just went the other day to see if I could find a way to help make them listen to him. I don’t need to go with him every time.” She could have gone to the pond. Wild Horse had probably gone there looking for her, but she had vowed to stay away. She must not go back, not ever! She had nearly lost her heart the last time, and something more. If Wild Horse touched her again, she would do something she would regret for the rest of her life. She was Edward Gibbons’s wife, and Wild Horse was a man doomed to flee or die. Nothing could change either of those situations, and she was a fool to carelessly submit herself to terrible sin and worse heartache.
Margaret rose and bid her good-bye, taking Evy’s hand and walking off with her. Gloria watched them. She did not believe for one second that Evy was making up her stories. She was a sweet child, very open…and children had a habit of usually speaking the truth. “Out of the mouths of babes,” she muttered.
“What did you say, Gloria?” Josie spoke up.
“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking.” Should she tell her husband her thoughts? Would he laugh at her for suggesting she believed Wild Horse might be right here under his nose? It certainly couldn’t hurt to make a search at the agency. If he was here, what on earth did Margaret Gibbons have to do with any of it? The woman had guilt written all over her pretty face. How delicious to think that the good minister’s wife might be secretly meeting with a wild Cheyenne man!
Margaret could keep her vow no longer. Surely Wild Horse would leave soon, and she could not let him go without seeing him once more, if for nothing more than to thank him for sharing so much with her, for showing her a joy she had never known before. The heat today was miserable and stifling, but she would not let it keep her from walking to the pond. Evy was with Rose, and Edward was at the agency. She did not bring a blanket, for she did not plan to stay long, and she did not dare sit or lie back on a blanket again with Wild Horse sitting near her.
His kiss had burned into her like a brand. For the rest of her life she would not forget the taste of it, the feel of his full lips opening to her. It had been thrilling for that little moment to be the one in control. She had been the teacher then, showing Wild Horse something pleasurable and exciting. Never did she think she could be so bold, but he brought out a wildness in her she had not even known was there, a dangerous passion that after today must be reserved for no one but Edward. If only her husband recognized that passion and allowed her to share it.
She knew it had hurt him when she went to the agency, but she had not meant to make her proud husband feel inadequate. She had only meant to help, and through helping, perhaps find a way to be closer to Edward. So far it had not worked. She had tried so many times to get him to talk to her, to tell her of any feelings, dreams, fears he wanted to share, but right now they seemed farther apart than they had ever been. She knew it was partly because of this secret love she shared with another, and it must end. After today…
“So, at last you come again.”
The words interrupted her thoughts, and she turned to see Wild Horse standing behind her. She put a hand to her chest to still her heart. He looked magnificent, wearing only a loincloth, his hair clean and shining, hanging loose, down past his shoulders. “How do you do that, Wild Horse? I never hear you.”
He grinned. “You are not supposed to hear me. When one lives off the land, one must know how to stalk the enemy and how to track his prey without being seen or heard or smelled.”
“Is that what I am to you? Your prey?”
He smiled sadly. “Maybe.” He walked closer, and she wondered if a more perfect specimen of man existed. “You have come to say good-bye. Tonight I leave, but that is not why you would say good-bye. You belong to another, but your heart is beginning to betray you, so you came to tell me you will no longer meet me here.”
She looked away, always surprised at how he knew everything she was thinking. “It’s wrong for me to feel this way.” She felt a strong hand on her shoulder then, and she shivered at the touch.
“It is never wrong to love, Maggie, and if you did not belong to another, if our worlds were not so far apart…” He ran a thumb into the bun at the nape of her neck. “Why do you always wear your hair so plain and tight? I want to see it hanging long, just once, before I go. Take these combs from your hair, Maggie.”
She still could not look at him, yet already she was under his commanding spell. Why could she never say no to this man? She reached up and pulled out the combs that held the bun in a twist, then undid the barrette that held it pulled together. She shook out her long, blond tresses and trembled when she felt his hand run through them.
“You have the most beautiful hair I have ever seen. Does your husband like it this way?”
She swallowed. “Please, Wild Horse, I came here to thank you for everything you have shared with me…and for showing me a way of life I never realized was so beautiful. I will never forget—”
“Maggie.”
The name was spoken with such tenderness that she could not finish. The tears came then, and she turned. In the next moment she was in his arms, a wonderful, strong, warm embrace that made her move her own arms around him. She had never rested her face against a man’s bare chest before. It was comforting. There was nothing to be said, for they understood that it could not be put into words. He rubbed one hand over her back, used the other to grasp her thick hair and force her to tilt back her head.
“I want to kiss again,” he said softly.
“We can’t—”
His mouth met hers in a warm, delicious kiss that set her aflame. She moved her arms up around his neck and returned the kiss with groaning passion. Never had Edward shown such desperate need, such near worship of her. He moved his lips to her hair then. “Maggie, my beautiful Maggie,” he whispered. Suddenly he moved a foot behind her ankle that made her fall back, but he kept hold of her, lowering her gently onto the grass. For the moment she was lost in him, unable to think rationally, pent-up needs burgeoning forth as she returned more kisses with eagerness. His hand moved along her side, to a breast. She cried out at the touch. Edward never touched her this way. He pulled at the shoulder of her dress, tearing off buttons when he suddenly ripped it downward and moved his lips to her bare shoulder, to the white softness of her breast.
“Wild Horse, we can’t—”
“Take off your clothes, Maggie. Come into the water with me.” He licked at her breast, pulled her dress and camisole farther away to expose a nipple.
“Wild Horse,” she whimpered, grasping his hair, gasping in utter ecstasy when his lips found the pink fruit of her breast. He sucked gently, groaning with the want of her. “Please, stop, Wild Horse.”
He moved his lips back to her throat. “Your husband has never done this. You have never been so free, have you?” He raised up on his elbows. “I told you I had one more thing to show you. This is what I wanted you to know, how to give yourself freely to a man, that it is not wrong to feel this way. Come and swim naked with me, Maggie. See how it feels to have the cool water caress your body. Then we will make love. It will not be like anything you have ever felt before. Let me show you, Maggie. No one else ever needs to know. It is right. You know that it is right.”
Oh, how she wanted him inside of her! She wanted to be Wild Horse’s woman, but she knew it was wrong. In his eyes he saw no wrong with it. He came from a people who acted freely on their feelings. When a Cheyenne man and woman felt this way about each other, they simply went off and acted on their passion, and they were then man and wife. If a Cheyenne woman was disgusted with her husband and wanted out of the marriage, she simply cut their blanket in two and set his half outside the tipi with his moccasins and other belongings, and that was the end of it. If only life could be that simple for her own people, but at this moment she realized just how different they were.
“You must let me go, Wild Horse,” she
whispered. “Don’t make me do something that will leave me feeling unhappy for the rest of my life.”
He raised up a little, his dark eyes studying her face. “It would make you unhappy to be one with Wild Horse?”
A tear slipped down her cheek. “No.” She reached up and touched his face. “It’s the regrets I would have later, the regrets and the guilt that would make me unhappy. I have never wanted to give myself to a man the way I want to give myself to you right now, but I can’t let it happen. That is the difference between us.” She breathed a deep sob. “I wish I could be as free as you. You’re stuck on a reservation…soldiers looking for you, and yet you are more free than I. Maybe if I had more time, but I can’t change overnight what I have been brought up to believe is right, no more than you and your people can change in just a few days. Can you understand that?”
His own eyes teared. “I understand that I love you. If you did not belong to another and you were my captive, I think perhaps you would not want to go back to your people. You would want to stay with Wild Horse and be his woman.”
She sniffed and sobbed. “I love you,” she told him through tears. “But I can’t do this.”
His eyes moved over her, and one tear dripped onto her chest. He leaned down and kissed her breast once more, then rolled away from her. “Go,” he said flatly. “Go quickly.”
There was so much more she wanted to say. Her whole body screamed for satisfaction. She knew now that there was a beauty and a wonderful joy in giving herself to a man with passion, with wanton desire. She longed to know the full extent of that pleasure, but it simply could not be this way. She choked in a sob and got up, pulling her dress back over her shoulder. “Good-bye, Wild Horse,” she sobbed. “I shall never forget you.”
She hurried off into the trees, hardly able to see where she was going. She cried harder with the aching need to go back and let him have his way with her, to experience just once such wonderful freedom of her womanhood, but she had to think of Evy. If such a thing were discovered, it would be bad for her little girl, who would have to grow up among whispers about her “soiled, bad mother.” She didn’t care for herself, or even for Edward. It was Evy who mattered. Why destroy her child’s future for one brief moment of passion with a man she could never have. Still, she knew this hurt would not leave her for a long time, and the worst part was, she would have to suffer it alone. She could never tell a soul.
Chapter Six
“Did you hear? My husband is going to search the agency for that savage, Wild Horse.” Gloria Doleman twirled her parasol as she stood talking to Josie Hart. “It was my idea,” she said proudly. “I told him that Indian was just tricky enough that he might be hiding right here with his own people.”
“Do you really think that’s possible?” Josie asked, enjoying the gossip.
Gloria glanced at Evy, who looked up from where she was digging in the sand with Rose. “I think it’s very possible.” She paused, noticing a rather alarmed look in Evy’s eyes. “You’ve seen Wild Horse, haven’t you, Evy?”
Evy watched the woman, her child’s inner senses telling her there was something bad about what Gloria was saying—something dangerous for Wild Horse. She remembered her mother telling her so many times that she must not tell she had seen the man, but sometimes it was very hard to keep the secret. Now she sensed it was very important. “No,” she answered.
Gloria frowned. “Oh, now, Evy, it isn’t nice to tell lies. Surely your father has taught you that.”
Evy stared in confusion. Was she being a bad girl? Her mother would never tell her to do something bad, so it must be all right to not tell about Wild Horse. “I’m not lying,” she answered. Her little heart pounded, and she could not keep the tears from coming to her eyes. She was afraid for her mother and for Wild Horse.
Gloria sniffed. “Then why are you crying, Evy?”
“Gloria, leave her alone,” Josie urged. “She’s just a child with a big imagination.”
Gloria smiled in a kind of sneer, looking back at Josie. “I don’t think she’s making it up. I think she and her mother both have seen Wild Horse, and for some reason they’re hiding the truth. I can’t imagine how they might have met him, or why they would not tell anyone, but I think I’m right, and Albert will prove me right when he finds Wild Horse at the agency. When they do, he’ll be arrested and sent to Florida, and his troublemaking days will be over.” She looked back down her nose at Evy. “Your friend, Wild Horse, is in a lot of trouble, Evy.”
She turned and walked off with Josie then, talking in a near-whisper. Evy noticed Josie looked surprised, and she was sure the two women were talking about her mother and Wild Horse. She got up from the sand and looked into the distance. Beyond the fort sat her parents’ cabin, and beyond that was the pond. Wild Horse was always at the pond. Maybe her mother was there right now herself. She decided she must go and warn them. Wild Horse should know soldiers were going to look for him and arrest him.
“I can’t play anymore,” she told Rose. “I’m going home.”
“You’re supposed to wait for your mommy to come and get you,” Rose warned her.
“I know the way.” She brushed herself off. “Tell your mommy my mommy came for me. She waved at me from over there by where you come into the fort. Bye!” She ran off, but decided she would not even stop at her house first. The important thing was to warn Wild Horse, and as far as she knew, he lived at the pond. Wild Horse had been good to her. He was so different, full of stories. He made her laugh. She liked her Indian friend, and she didn’t want the soldiers to catch him.
Margaret felt numb, realizing how close she had come to committing a terrible sin, yet not really regretting it. She would suffer her broken heart in silence, try to mend it by finding a way to get closer to Edward. Maybe someday she could tell him the truth. For today, she could barely face the truth herself. She managed to compose herself, changed her clothes, and after a fit of crying, retucked her hair and had come to get Evy. It was nearly dusk, and she brought a pie she had made yesterday. She needed an excuse for waiting so long to come for Evy, so she would tell Josie she spent the day catching up on some baking.
She should have come a long time ago, but it had taken time to overcome the trauma of what had happened at the pond, more time to soothe her eyes so that the swelling went down and no one could tell she had been crying. This had been the most unusual day of her life, and she wondered how long it would take for this sick feeling to leave her.
She noticed no children playing outside Lieutenant Hart’s quarters, and she supposed Josie had taken the girls inside because it was getting dark. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door, and Josie Hart opened it. Margaret thought she looked at her strangely, with a note of disapproval. “Margaret! What brings you here so late?”
Margaret felt instant alarm. “I came to get Evy. I’m awfully sorry I’m late. I brought you a pie. I’ve been baking all day, and the time just got away from me.”
Josie frowned. “Evy isn’t with you?”
Margaret looked past her to see Rose sitting at the table. “No. You mean, she isn’t here?”
“Well…no. Rose told me you came for her. I was off talking with Gloria, and Rose said you came around the fort entrance and waved for Evy to come home.”
Margaret looked at Rose, fear gripping her. She handed Josie the pie. “Rose, why did you tell your mother that I came for Evy? I never came at all.”
Rose puckered her lips as though to cry, worried she might be in trouble. “Evy told me to say it. She said she wanted to go home and to tell Mommy you came for her.”
Margaret put a hand to her chest. “But she never came home!” She looked at Josie. “Where is my daughter?”
Josie set the pie aside. “I swear, Maggie, I thought she was with you! I’m terribly sorry—”
“Why did she suddenly leave like that and ask Rose to tell a lie?”
Josie turned away, trying to think. “I…I don’t know. Gloria was here,
and she was talking about—” She faced Margaret. Were Gloria’s suspicions true? Perhaps she should not be too quick to judge. “About Wild Horse. How the soldiers were going to look for him at the agency and he would be arrested.”
Margaret turned away. “Dear God,” she muttered. Had Evy gone to try to warn Wild Horse? Where would she go? Her heart pounded harder at the answer to that question. The pond! What if she fell in while no one was there? “Where is your husband?” she asked Josie.
“Why, he’s at the agency with some of the other men, searching for Wild Horse. Gloria felt perhaps he was hiding there.”
Gloria! What a meddling, pompous woman! Her stupid remarks must have upset Evy, who probably thought she had to help Wild Horse! She turned to face Josie. “Please, Josie, go ask some of the men to form a search party! And have someone go to the agency and get my husband! He was going to stay the night there. Tell him Evy is missing! We have to find her! It’s getting dark! Tell some of the men to come to the pond a half mile or so behind our cabin. She might have gone there!”
“But why would she go there?”
“I don’t know! I…I left the house for a while, and sometimes I take Evy to that pond so she can swim and bathe there. She might have gone there looking for me.” Or for Wild Horse! If soldiers were looking for Wild Horse, Evy could get hurt! “Please, Josie, will you ask some of the men to start searching, and get Edward?”
“Of course! I’m so sorry, Maggie. I really thought you had come for her.”
Margaret did not reply. She ran out and headed out of the fort toward the pond, calling for Evy, her precious baby, perhaps the only child she would ever have. How could she live without her daughter? She never should have stayed away so long! Guilt overwhelmed and consumed her—guilt for having fond thoughts of another man besides Edward, guilt for leaving her daughter to meet that man secretly. Her beautiful, sweet child! Anything could happen in this wild land, especially in the dark. The woods between the cabin and the pond were thick. She could turn in the wrong direction. She could fall and get hurt. She could drown. And this was Indian Territory—outlaws often hid here. She had no fear that a Cheyenne would bring the child harm, but there were all other elements of men out here, scurvy whites who exploited the Indians with rotten whiskey whenever they could, traders from all parts of the country. She was such a pretty little girl, so innocent and trusting.
