Beyond The Horizon

by Connie Mason

  The schoolhouse sat at the far end of the fort beyond the corral and horse shed. It was a one-room structure already furnished with desks and blackboard in anticipation of the teacher it didn’t have. A wide variety of books and supplies were on hand, enough to get them started. A wood-burning stove sat in the middle of the room. It was filthy. So were the windows. So dirty in fact that Shannon couldn’t see out of them.

  Shannon learned that she’d be responsible for cleaning, carrying water, gathering firewood, and keeping supplies in good order. A teacher’s duties seemed endless. She’d be teaching the usual course of study, including reading, writing, arithmetic, spelling, geography, history, and grammar. All this for forty dollars a month and the house she would occupy. It was no great fortune, but Shannon didn’t mind. She was sure that not only would the job prove rewarding, but it would occupy her time during the long winter.

  The house itself was in no better shape than the school, badly in need of a thorough scrubbing. Shannon realized that if school was to start in two weeks, she had her work cut out for her. Before Colonel Greer left Shannon to return to his duties, he imparted a stern reminder concerning her moral conduct.

  “I know there is no need to caution you, my dear, but since you will be teaching our children, your conduct must remain above reproach. I’ve already done what I could to quell the talk circulating about your unfortunate ordeal with Mad Wolf. The rest is up to you.”

  “I understand, Colonel, and you’ll have no complaint about my conduct.”

  “Good, very good. I’ll leave you to your work now There is much to be done before school opens and I’ll help you by assigning a man to do the heavy chores.”

  Shannon strode across the square wearing her oldest dress and carrying a bucket in one hand and a brush in the other, ready to tackle the awesome job of cleaning the schoolhouse and her new lodging. Suddenly she spied Blade leading his gray pony across the parade grounds. He looked big, lean, and dangerous—Nothing like the tender lover she remembered from the Indian village. She wondered where in the world he had found Warrior. They both assumed the animal had perished in the tornado. Shannon stopped, waiting for Blade to approach so she might question him about his horse. She was shocked when he passed her by without so much as flicking an eyelid in recognition.

  “Blade, how dare you ignore me!”

  Blade halted in mid-stride. He should have known Shannon couldn’t let well enough alone. Didn’t she realize he was avoiding her for a reason? She caught up with him, glaring at him with a challenge on her lips. “You weren’t going to speak to me, were you?”

  “Believe me, Shannon, it’s for your own good. I’m not the kind of man a proper young woman like yourself should associate with. The new schoolmarm is expected to be more descreet.”

  “You know about that?”

  “News travels fast on a small army post. Is teaching the profession you’ve decided upon?”

  “For the time being,” Shannon allowed. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy it. Besides, a steady income will allow me to pay my own way to Idaho. And I don’t like taking advantage of the Greers’ hospitality. Isn’t it fortunate rooms are included in the salary? I’m on my way there now,” Shannon added brightly.

  With devouring thoroughness, Blade’s dark eyes feasted on every aspect of Shannon’s face and figure. God, she was an enchanting creature! She had no idea what she did to him or how badly he wanted to take her in his arms, to feel her softness melt against his hardness. Unfortunately, here on the frontier he was considered no better than a savage and unsuitable company for a well-bred young lady.

  A desire stronger than life propelled him a step closer, aware that people were staring but unable to help himself.

  “Shannon—”

  “Is there a problem?” Lieutenant Goodman’s voice was harsh with disapproval. He had seen Blade and Shannon from across the parade ground and beat a hasty path to where they stood deep in conversation. He was astute enough to sense an undercurrent of emotion pass between them, and he seethed with anger.

  “No problem at all,” Shannon denied, unable to tear her eyes from the intensity of Blade’s gaze. She wondered what Blade might have said if Goodman hadn’t interrupted. “Blade and I were having a private conversation.”

  “Don’t you have duties to attend to?” Goodman asked Blade, his voice ripe with censure. “I suggest you refrain from annoying Miss Branigan.”

  “But Blade wasn’t—”

  “The Lieutenant is right, Miss Branigan. I’ll be on my way.”

  Shannon knew by Blade’s compressed mouth and cold eyes that he was furious, and his valiant effort to contain his temper impressed her. She watched in consternation as Blade walked away, Warrior following close on his heels. The horse reminded Shannon that she hadn’t asked Blade where he had found his mount.

  “Blade, where did you find Warrior?”

  “He wandered into the fort a few days ago,” Blade explained tersely. He didn’t bother to stop but continued on his way.

  “Wait, I—”

  “Let him go, Miss Branigan. The breed knows his place.”

  “Lieutenant Goodman, Blade is a man like any other and better than some I know,” she hinted, fixing him with a cold glare. “Why do you insist on belittling him?”

  “He is accustomed to it by now,” Goodman said with careless disregard. “Please call me Ronald and I’ll call you Shannon. I’d like us to be friends.”

  “I don’t think …”

  “Shannon, this is a small fort and people talk. It isn’t proper for you to be seen with Swift Blade. I’m only saying this for your own good.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant, but I don’t need anyone looking out for my welfare.”

  “Ronald.”

  “Very well—Ronald,” Shannon allowed grudgingly. Anything to get rid of him. “If you’ll excuse me, there is much work to be done before school opens.”

  Shannon tackled the house first, cleaning several months’ accummulation of dust and grime with a vigor that surprised even her. The house was small, consisting of bedroom, kitchen, and parlor, sparsely furnished with the bare necessities. But with the linens Shannon had brought with her and sundry items donated by Molly and various officers’ wives, the house would be adequate for her needs—comfortable, even. At least it would be all hers for as long as she remained the schoolmarm.

  True to his word, Colonel Greer sent a man to help with the cleaning. Sandy Loomis, a young, fuzzy-faced private, was eager to please, and within two days the house was sparkling clean. Before Private Loomis left at the end of the second day, Shannon received his promise to lend a hand whenever she needed him.

  Alone at last, exhausted but satisfied with all she had accomplished, Shannon spared a moment to sink down on the soft surface of the newly made bed. It was beginning to feel like home already. She sighed sleepily. Tired, so tired … Her eyelids drooped, her chest rose and fell in steady cadence.

  Blade stood outside Shannon’s house in the growing dusk with an arrested look on his face. He knew he should turn around and leave just as fast as his legs could carry him. He had no business being here, no business at all—yet his heart told him otherwise. He had been coping admirably until he saw Shannon on the parade ground. Until that moment he had made himself believe she wasn’t important to him, had denied in his heart that he needed her. He had intended to return to his room after his duties were completed, but his feet had worked independently of his mind and carried him to Shannon’s house.

  Though he knew she was forbidden to him, Blade felt driven by a force stronger than life. He had to see Shannon, had to speak with her, needed to tell her he hadn’t meant to be so rude when they spoke last. He rapped lightly on the door, and when he received no answer he entered through the unlatched screen, careful that he wasn’t seen. He knew Shannon was alone, for he had watched the young private assigned to help her leave a short time ago.

  When a cursory inspection showed Shannon in neither the kitche
n nor the parlor, Blade approached the bedroom. The door was ajar, and he saw her asleep on the freshly made bed. A large kerchief concealed her rich chestnut locks and a soiled white apron covered her blue gingham dress, but to Blade she was the loveliest sight he’d ever beheld. He stared at her, mesmerized, yet reluctant to awaken her. He should leave, Blade told himself. Being here was definitely not in Shannon’s best interests. His decision made, he turned to depart. But as luck would have it, his moccasined feet, usually so noiseless, trod across a loose plank. As the plank gave beneath Blade’s weight, it groaned in protest.

  Shannon lingered in that place between sleep and wakefulness, aware of movement nearby. The creaking plank nudged her fully awake. She opened her eyes and saw him. He had his back turned to her as if he meant to leave without awakening her. She’d recognize that broad back and massive shoulders anywhere.

  With a note of constraint in her voice she asked, “Blade? What are you doing here?”

  Blade spun around, surprised to see Shannon wide awake and staring at him, her brows raised in a question.

  “I—I came by to ask if you needed anything,” he improvised, for in truth he had no idea what had brought him here. It was dangerous for them to be alone, dangerous in more ways than one. “Do you need money or—anything? I’ve some cash set aside that I’d be happy to lend you.”

  “No, thank you, I’m fine,” Shannon replied primly. “My needs are small.”

  “My needs are enormous,” Blade said hoarsely. His words were ripe with implied meaning, sending Shannon’s Irish temper soaring. How dare he ignore her one minute then turn around and demand things she wasn’t prepared to give!

  “Perhaps you should leave,” she said coldly, looking away from him.

  Being alone with Blade did things to her, made her feel things she had no business thinking about, let alone doing. That one night spent in Blade’s arms, experiencing his love, learning what it meant to be a woman, had put forbidden thoughts in her head. She couldn’t look at him without recalling all those wonderful things he did to her and the incredible joy his loving brought her. But deep in Shannon’s heart, she knew he didn’t love her, that he had made love to her only because it was necessary. The only emotion involved was lust.

  Blade didn’t want to leave, but neither did he want to do anything to hurt Shannon. He turned again toward the door, reluctant yet prepared to oblige if it was what she really wanted. The effort was futile. Suddenly he whirled to face her, his ebony eyes searching her face.

  “I want you, Shannon. I want to make love to you.”

  Shannon’s breath caught painfully in her chest. She hadn’t expected him to be so brutally honest and his words caught her off guard. All her senses demanded that she tell him she wanted him with the same intensity as he wanted her. Why was something that made her feel so alive and glorious so sinful?

  Shannon longed to give her approval, but the words refused to come. She could only stare at Blade—stare at him so long that she felt swallowed by the passionate authority in the black depths of his eyes.

  “Don’t you enjoy being made love to by a half-breed?”

  “Blade, you don’t understand. I can’t—”

  “Yes you can—and you will!”

  In two steps he was beside her, tearing at her clothes, giving her a taste of what it meant to be loved by a real savage.

  “Blade, stop—don’t do this!”

  “Why? Am I too much of a savage for you? Does my loving disgust you?”

  For the first time since she met Blade, Shannon felt true fright. She opened her mouth to protest, to scream, anything to dissuade him from the terrible thing he was about to do.

  “You bastard! I don’t want this!”

  “Yes you do. You want it as much as I do.”

  “No, I—”

  Her words died in her throat as his mouth slanted across hers, his hands ridding her of the last remnants of her clothes. His kiss forced her mouth open so he could rake the inside with his tongue, until she ceased struggling and was kissing him back. Then his mouth was on her breast, drawing a nipple deep into his mouth until she cried out, shaking her head from side to side as if to deny her own response.

  “Do you know how many times I’ve ached to have you since that first time?” Blade groaned hoarsely.

  Shannon struggled to resist, but she couldn’t. His hands were doing wonderful things to her, his fingers sliding rhythmically inside her until the pleasure became a frantic beat that sang through her veins like liquid heat.

  “Oh,” she whimpered. “Oh, no.”

  Rising slightly, Blade’s long fingers worked to release his swollen and throbbing manhood. Shannon gasped, realizing that her body had become his to do with as he pleased.

  With a low growl and a curse, he sank into her—deep, deeper.

  “Say it, damn you! Say you want me!”

  “No!”

  “Say it! Say it!” Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead as he fought to control the terrible need to thrust and thrust until she cried out, until she wanted him as badly as he wanted her. “Tell me you want me!”

  A sob of surrender burst past her lips. “Yes! God help me, I want you!”

  Then he was moving inside her, driving, pounding, grinding their loins together in mindless frenzy. He filled her again and again, straining and pounding his way as far as he could go inside her. The intensity became unbearable. A blazing bliss burst upon her, shattering, devastating. Blade tensed, shuddered, cried out. Shannon felt his body throb violently as he filled her with liquid fire.

  Shannon whimpered.

  The sound seemed to snap something inside Blade, bringing him abruptly to his senses.

  “Sweet Jesus, Shannon—forgive me, forgive me. I don’t want to hurt you. For a moment I forgot what I am, who I am.”

  “What are you, Blade?” Shannon asked, choking back a sob.

  “I am a man. Red or white, I am a man.”

  “Yes, you are,” Shannon agreed. “I won’t ever forget it. Though I’ll probably burn in hell forever, I wanted you to love me.”

  “Does that mean you forgive me? God, Shannon, I don’t deserve you,” Blade groaned. “Being a half-breed isn’t my only sin where you’re concerned. I served in the Union Army, I fought against all you loved and cherished.”

  Shannon winced, not wishing to be reminded of those painful memories and all she’d lost during the war. She may have been slow in learning it, but life did go on. Nothing remained the same forever. She had chosen a new life, just as the other Branigans had done, and there was no looking back. All that counted was tomorrow and what lay beyond the horizon—a new land, a fresh beginning, and freedom to do and be whatever she wanted.

  Shannon had much to be grateful for and a good share of the credit was due to Blade. It was true he had stolen her innocence, but only because it was necessary to save her from captivity. Nor could she blame him for what he had just done. He hadn’t really forced her, just made her admit how much she wanted him.

  “I don’t really care what you are, Blade, I only know how I feel when I’m with you,” Shannon confessed. How could she fight him when his touch lifted her to such ecstasy? “I wanted desperately to hate you. It seemed the only way I could protect myself from you.”

  “Look at me,” Blade directed, his voice a sensual purr. “What do you see?”

  Her gaze went from his mouth—full and sensual now, though she’d seen it taut with rage—to his firm, arrogant jaw. There was a ruthless nobility about his dark features. Her eyes continued to drift down the strong column of his bronze neck to his broad chest—sprinkled with black, softly curling hair at the vee of his shirt—then across his taut abdomen and slim hips, to stare finally at the muscular thighs and bold thrust of his manhood. Blushing, her gaze shot upward to his midnight-black eyes fringed with thick, unbelievably long ebony lashes.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, Little Firebird.” He stared into her eyes, his voice low and grating. “Tell me
what you see.”

  “I see—I see—”

  “Go on,” he encouraged her.

  “A man—a handsome, wonderfully virile man.”

  “What color am I?”

  “Color? I see no color. Your skin is smooth and bronze from the sun. What do you want me to say?”

  “That my Indian blood doesn’t offend you, that afterwards you will remember that a man made love to you, not a half-breed savage.”

  “I know who made love to me.”

  Her words seemed to release something in Blade. “Oh God, Shannon, I need you. I’ll never get my fill of you! What kind of a spell have you cast over me?”

  Shannon’s heart pounded rapidly as Blade slowly lifted his hand to her face and lightly ran his finger over her full bottom lip. His hand dropped to cup her breast, caressing it, his thumb teasing the nipple to a taut bud.

  “I want to do it right this time.”

  Shannon felt weak; a hot tingling sensation rushing over her as he gathered her in his strong arms. He bent his head to her throat and lightly ran his tongue over it, tracing the throbbing pulsebeat to her ear, circling it, then gently probing it. Shannon shuddered in response. He nibbled at the corners of her mouth, his tongue teasing. At last his lips claimed hers in a long demanding kiss, his tongue plundering, her own answering, until they were both trembling with intense excitement.

  His kiss went on and on as he deftly peeled away the rest of his clothing. When he settled down beside her there was nothing between them but sizzling flesh. Then Blade continued his slow, delicious assault. He nipped at her sensitive breasts, then licked the hurt away, his tongue rolling around one tender peak and then the other. His hand slipped between her thighs, his fingers stroking, tantalizing as his tongue traced her ribs down to her belly, thoroughly exploring her naval. Positioning himself between her legs, his tongue slid down her inner thighs.

  Shannon’s body was on fire, writhing in ecstasy, her blood spurting hotly though her veins. But when his mouth touched the nest of curls between her legs she froze, shocked and frightened. “Blade, no!”

  “I won’t hurt you, Little Firebird, let me, let me …”