Damon sucked on a cigar that was no longer lit. He looked from man to man. “You know what’s got to be done, don’t cha?” he growled out.
“Raid Sage’s horses,” one of his men said, laughing boisterously. “I kind of like it that he’s become a thief. It’s put a bit of excitement in my life besides whiskey and women. It’s got me goin’ again.”
“You think Sage did this?” another cowhand piped up. “He seems to have more sense than that.”
“It’s either Sage or Runner,” Damon said, glowering. “But then, of course, there’s always Thunder Hawk.”
He sank his shiny spurs into the flanks of his horse, causing it to rear, then thundered off beneath the moonlight.
“Come on, gents, we’ve some horses to steal,” he shouted, laughing into the wind.
Still fuming over the afternoon’s outcome, Adam was perched on his horse on a high butte that overlooked Sage’s village. He hadn’t gone straight home. He was too angry at Sage, and even more upset when he had seen Stephanie leave the Navaho village with Runner.
But when he just as quickly remembered why this could work in his favor, he had not followed them. He hoped this would give Stephanie a chance to grow closer to Runner, and he, in turn, to her. Adam would allow them to become involved, short of marriage.
He would never allow Stephanie to become a part of this savage tribe. She would be on that damn train with him when he left Arizona, to return to their hometown of Wichita, Kansas.
His attention returned to the valley below. He leaned over his horse and peered through the velvety cloak of night at some activity at the far end of Sage’s pole corral.
“Why I’ll be damned,” he said to himself, laughing. “Would you look at that? It’s Damon and his ranch hands. They’re stealin’ horses from Sage.”
He watched until they rode away, feeling confident in Damon as his ally. It was smart of Damon to steal the horses right now, to help draw attention away from Adam and his own personal plans.
“Yep, he was smart to think that one up,” Adam said, still chuckling.
Then he stiffened and his hand went to the rifle in the gun boot as he saw movement elsewhere, on a slight rise of land just beneath the butte he was on. His heart skipped a beat; it was Pure Blossom, Sage’s beautiful daughter.
His pulse raced as he slid from his saddle, took his horse behind some bushes, and tethered it to a low limb. As quietly as possible, he began moving down the side of the slope, knowing that he would not pass up this opportunity to be with the pretty lady that had stolen his heart the moment he had laid eyes on her. The sound of her soft voice singing wafted up to him through the soft velvet of night as he moved stealthily onward, his heart pounding, quite taken by the sweetness of the voice, and by the lady herself.
He listened intently as he moved gradually closer . . . and closer . . .
On bended knees, her eyes heavenward, Pure Blossom poured her feelings from her heart, in song. She invoked the voice of Thunder from above, the voice of Grasshopper from below, asking the spirits of the earth around her for their blessings.
She stopped with a start and listened to the crackling of a branch behind her. Moving slowly to her feet, she turned and waited and watched.
When Adam stepped into view, Pure Blossom gasped and took a step back from him. She recalled the angry words her father had exchanged with this handsome man and knew that any feelings that she might have for him were wrong and dangerous.
He was dangerous.
Yet she could not deny her feelings. Her knees were trembling. She felt an odd queasiness at the pit of her stomach that felt wonderfully sweet. She could not deny the throbbing of her heart, or the wild desire she felt for Adam as he stepped closer to her.
“I did not mean to disturb your song,” Adam said, stopping only an arm’s length from her. He feared going closer; he desired her so much his whole insides ached.
Ah, but she was beautiful. Frail, yet so pretty it made his heart bleed with need of her.
“You did not disturb my song,” Pure Blossom said in correct English, which she had learned in the white man’s school. “I was finished.”
“Isn’t it dangerous for you to be here alone?” Adam dared to ask, not wanting to put any more fear of him in her heart than was already visible in her eyes.
“Perhaps,” Pure Blossom said weakly. “My father would say that it was not wise for me to be with you.”
“You have no reason to be afraid of me, ever,” Adam said quietly. “Please remember that my quarrel isn’t with you. It’s solely with your father—and Runner.”
“Why must there be problems between you?” Pure Blossom said, relaxing somewhat. “If you had come to our land for peaceful purposes, I would be free to. . .”
She lowered her eyes quickly, having almost admitted too much to this man whose mere presence made her head swim with rapture. He was a stranger and she had fallen in love with him too quickly.
Adam’s whole body seemed to be one heartbeat as he stepped up to her and lifted her chin with a finger. “You would be free to what?” he said huskily.
“To love you,” Pure Blossom blurted out, then leaned into his arms and offered her lips to him.
Adam swept his arms around her and drew her tightly against him. When their lips met, he found himself filled with pleasure he had long denied himself. Business ventures had always taken precedence over women. But now?
Now he wanted it to be the same, but, oh, Lord, it wasn’t. This pretty Navaho woman felt like an angel in his arms and her lips were as sweet as honey.
Pure Blossom moved her lips against his ear. “Come with me,” she whispered. “Make love with me in my hogan.”
Adam was torn by his feelings. He was stunned that this beautiful woman was offering herself to him so easily. Yet he knew the dangers of going to her village with her. If Sage caught him, he would surely issue a death warrant!
“I’d best not,” he whispered back, fighting his passionate desire. “Let’s make love here. Beneath the stars.”
Pure Blossom leaned away from him. “The air is getting cold,” she said. She placed a gentle hand to his cheek and softly stroked his flesh. “As you have surely seen, Pure Blossom cannot stand the cold. I must never get a chill, or it might be fatal.”
Adam brushed a kiss across her lips, then swung her up into his arms and carried her toward the slope of land that would lead him to his horse.
“This is not the direction of my hogan,” Pure Blossom murmured, smiling up at him. “Turn around. That will take you there.”
“My horse,” Adam said. “I must get my horse.”
“Leave your horse here,” Pure Blossom said, as she clung around his neck. “That way no one but myself will know you are in my hogan.”
Adam looked with wavering eyes up at the bluff overhead, then concluded that his horse was far enough from the village, and too well hidden, for anyone to see it.
“All right, so the horse is taken care of,” Adam said, turning to carry Pure Blossom down the slope. “Now what about me?”
“I know ways of getting you in my dwelling without anyone seeing,” Pure Blossom said, giggling softly.
“If you can get me into your hogan without being seen, I guess I can get out as easily,” Adam said, shrugging. “I want you, Pure Blossom. I’ll take whatever chance I must just to be with you.”
“You are the first for Pure Blossom,” she said, her eyes innocently wide. “It is fate that has brought you to me. My body has been saved just for you.”
Adam worried about this all being too easy; it did seem as far-fetched as some of the novels that he had read by a midnight fire.
A thought came to him. Was this . . . a trap?
Yet his need for her overpowered his fears and made him forget the dangers that might be waiting for him in the Navaho village. There was a fire in his blood that only Pure Blossom could extinguish.
He held her close and broke into a slow run, with only one th
ing on his mind.
Gratification.
Chapter 12
I sleep with thee, and wake with thee
And yet thou art not there.
—JOHN CLARE
Filled with the memory of her time with Runner, Stephanie had hardly slept all night. Early morning light was just seeping into the windows of her private car and she was already dressed for her exciting day with Runner.
Her hair drawn back and tied with a ribbon, and dressed in her demure travel clothes—a fresh skirt and blouse, and polished boots—she felt ready to tackle many miles today. Especially with Runner at her side, leading her to the various places that he would allow her to photograph.
Her hand drifted to the derringer that lay on the nightstand beside her bed, then she shrugged off the notion of taking it today. She needed no further protection while she was with Runner.
Humming beneath her breath, she strolled lightly into the small kitchenette that had been built at the far end of her private car, opposite her darkroom, and picked up a steaming pot of coffee from the small cookstove.
After she poured herself a cup, she went to the door that led outside to a small walkway to Adam’s car. She had not yet told him what her plans were for today, and that she didn’t need his escort.
She swirled around, laughing, uncaring that she was clumsily splashing coffee, dizzied by the thought of being with Runner for an entire day.
“Together—we’ll be together,” she said, laughing drunkenly.
Her laughter faded as she stopped and stared at the door again. “I guess I’d best go and tell Adam.” She set her cup aside.
She left her private car and raised her hand to knock on Adam’s door, then paused and listened for any movement inside. He hated to be awakened, but she had no choice but to go against his wishes this morning. She knew that it was best to tell Adam what her plans were today before Runner arrived. She was going to try and keep those two separated as much as possible. She had no idea what to expect of them if the bitterness they now felt for one another was allowed to get out of hand.
The breeze between the two railroad cars made shivers race up and down Stephanie’s spine. She gave a brisk knock on Adam’s door, then hugged herself with her arms in an effort to ward off the chill.
While waiting for him to come to the door she looked toward the mountains. She was glad to see the first glimpse of the sun easing its way upward. Soon the air would be warm, perhaps even too warm once she got out into the open desert on her horse.
Brushing all thoughts aside except to wonder why Adam had not yet answered the door, Stephanie knocked once more.
Again, she got no response. She leaned an ear against the window, to see if she could hear any signs of Adam moving around, since the shade was pulled on the door, making it impossible for her to see inside.
Suddenly she recalled that she had not heard Adam return on his horse during the night, though it hadn’t worried her at the time. It was foolish to worry about Adam. Even if he hadn’t come home, perhaps he had slept over at Damon’s ranch after drinking too much, or after gambling into the wee hours of the morning.
She flinched at the thought of him having gone to a brothel at Gallup. She did know that he had done this from time to time back home in Wichita.
“I doubt he will ever take a wife,” Stephanie whispered to herself. She knew that he was too absorbed by his obsession to have a town of his own to have a lasting relationship with a woman. She pitied any woman who would expect it from him. He had already left a trail of broken hearts everywhere he traveled.
Running out of patience, Stephanie tried the door and found that it was not locked. Slowly opening it, she stuck her head inside.
“Adam?” she said. She peered in and discovered that all of the shades on the windows on both sides of the car were still drawn.
She squinted her eyes in an effort to see his bed at the far end of the private car. Finding it impossible to make anything out in the dark shadows of the car, and because Adam had not yet made himself known to her, Stephanie went on in.
She stepped lightly across the room and rolled a shade up on one of the windows. When she turned and saw that Adam wasn’t in his bed, she gasped. It was apparent that Adam hadn’t come home after the dispute with the Navaho.
“Oh, Adam,” she whispered, shaking her head slowly back and forth. “Where on earth did you spend the night?”
At times like this, she feared for her brother. No matter how much she tried to convince herself that he was old enough to take care of himself, she saw him as vulnerable in many ways. As far as she was concerned, he didn’t have the common sense of a toad. Too often she had been forced to intervene in awkward situations to save him from embarrassments she did not even want to think about.
“Well, big brother, it seems you are on your own today,” Stephanie said, sighing.
She went back to her private car. Just as she was about to pour herself a fresh cup of coffee, she heard the sound of an approaching horse.
Her heart skipped an excited beat. Was Runner arriving this early? Or was it Adam?
Again recalling her lovemaking with Runner, she walked to the window with weak knees. A sudden, wild desire leapt into her heart when she saw Runner approaching.
She gazed at him with a rapid heartbeat as he wheeled his horse to a stop and tied his reins to the makeshift hitching rail beside the train cars.
In a flurry, she went to the door and opened it.
When her eyes met Runner’s, Stephanie felt giddy, and she knew that her face was flushed with color. In flashes of her mind’s eye she was remembering what Runner had taught her with his lips and hands the previous night. She would never forget how it felt when their nude bodies had pressed together that first time. And how could she ever forget how he had so magnificently filled her? She ached even now to share all of this with him again.
She felt wicked to the core for allowing her mind to wander to such decadent thoughts. If her stepmother were there—oh, how Sally would shame her for her wanton behavior. But how could she feel otherwise when a man as handsome as Runner was in love with her? Stephanie concluded.
Her gaze swept over Runner as he climbed the stairs. Today he was dressed in a fresh buckskin outfit with a red velveteen headband tied around his brow. He wore moccasins, and he had a knife sheathed at one side of his waist and a pistol holstered on the other.
Runner was in awe of how vibrant and alive Stephanie was this early in the morning. Her eyes were wide and bright and filled with excitement. Her cheeks were rosy, her lips even more enticing from having been kissed by him so often, and so fiercely, the previous night.
His gaze slid downward, to stare at the swell of her breasts where they pressed against a colorfully designed blouse, their cleavage exposed enough for him to recall how soft they were, and how sweet they tasted when he had placed his lips to them. Hungering for her even now, the heat was rising in his loins.
“Good morning,” Stephanie said, catapulting Runner from his thoughts.
“Yaa-eh-t-eeh,” he said quickly.
Stephanie looked quizzically up at him. “You just said . . . ?” she murmured.
“I said ‘hello’ in Navaho,” Runner said, laughing softly.
Stephanie was feeling awkward, something quite unusual for her. In her line of business, she had learned to be open and relaxed, to make those she was photographing relax, as well. But with this man, she felt like a young schoolgirl with her first crush. And in a sense, that was how it truly was: he was her first true love.
“Come on inside and have a cup of coffee with me before we leave,” she said, turning and hurrying back inside her private car.
She looked at him over her shoulder as he followed her. “And perhaps you might want to see my darkroom and equipment?” she offered. “If you have a better sense of what I do, perhaps it will make you understand even more why I love it so.”
“Yes, perhaps,” Runner said, closing the door behind hi
m. He turned and stared from the window at Adam’s private car. He was torn with many feelings when he allowed himself to forget his bitterness toward Adam. He wished that it could be as it was all those years ago. He would find much pleasure in riding and laughing with Adam.
“Adam knows your plans for today?” Runner said, following Stephanie into the small kitchenette.
Stephanie stiffened at Runner’s mention of Adam. She poured Runner a cup of coffee and gave it to him.
“Adam?” she said.
Feeling Runner’s presence behind her as he followed, Stephanie walked into the parlor section of her car.
“No. I haven’t told him,” she murmured. She paused, then turned to Runner as he came toward her. “He isn’t in his private car.” She hesitated, then said, “I don’t know where he is. I’m not even sure if I should leave without seeing that he arrives back safely.”
Runner tipped the cup to his lips and sipped at the coffee as he looked over the rim at Stephanie. Then he set the cup aside.
“This association he has with Damon Stout,” he said guardedly. “Can you define it? Do you think that Adam stayed the night at Damon’s ranch?”
“I’m not sure how to answer either of your questions,” Stephanie said, forgetting her coffee. She felt that it was best to get under way, to get away from such a discussion.
She went into her darkroom, lit the kerosene lamp and finished gathering her supplies into a bag. She tensed as Runner came up behind her.
When his hands circled her waist and he drew her around to face him, she sucked in a wild breath. She searched his face, glad that she did not find anger in his eyes.
“You do not know the reason for your brother’s association with Damon?” Runner said quietly. “Nor do you know whether or not he might have stayed overnight at Damon’s ranch?”
“I truly don’t know why Adam and Damon have become so involved,” Stephanie said simply. “As for me, I think Damon is the devil in disguise.” She shuddered when she recalled how he had tried to rape her. “He is a vile man. I wish that Adam had nothing to do with him.” She paused, then added, “As for where my brother stayed the night—perhaps in Gallup. Perhaps at Damon’s. I truly don’t know.”
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