by Connie Mason
“Don’t blame Major Vance, Blade. He told me to stay away from Clive, but I wouldn’t listen. If not for those guns, your mother would be alive today. I want to expose him for the slimy toad he is. I want to help in any way I can.”
“The only way you can help is by steering clear of Bailey. Please, Little Firebird, I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”
“Then you do love me!” Shannon cried, jubilant.
“You little fool, of course I love you. Are you happy now that I’ve admitted it?”
“Ecstatic.”
“Will it make the pain of parting any less?”
“It will comfort me while you’re gone,” Shannon said softly.
“Then I love you, Shannon Branigan. I will go to my grave loving you. If I never see you again, my love will sustain me. And if you love me as much as you say, you’ll promise to stay away from Clive Bailey. Leave him to me and Wade.”
“But—”
“No buts, I mean it.”
“Very well,” Shannon acquiesced, “if it means so much to you.”
“I care what happens to you, and Clive Bailey can go to hell. Wade and I will handle him when the time comes. Since that’s all settled,” he said, smiling lazily, “we can concentrate on more important things, like making love again. We’ve hours yet till dawn.”
His hand cupped her bare buttocks, bringing their bodies together in searing rapture. Their breaths merged and became one as his parted lips sought and found hers. The naked hunger that flared between them was both sweet and violent. Her world tilted crazily beneath the urgency of his kisses, carried along in a turbulent storm of passion.
She reached with her hand to hold him, felt him throbbing hot and hard in her grasp, felt his warm seed against her palm, drew in his male scent.
“Now, Blade, now,” she groaned as she raised her body above him and sheathed the pulsing, thickened length of him into the searing heat of her flesh. She fit him like a glove, hot and liquid, moving against him in wild frenzy.
She rode him into ecstasy, making him moan and arch against her while he sucked her firm nipples, drove into her quivering satin with relentless fury. Suddenly he reversed their positions, deliberately slowing the pace, using all his strength to hold back his own release. He wanted it to go on and on, he wanted always to be buried deep inside her. They clung together in desperate yearning as he delved deeper and deeper, consumed by the demand for fulfillment.
Shannon’s body stiffened with pleasure so intense she had to bite her lips to hold back a scream. Blade felt the tiny tremors deep inside her. “Ah sweet, so sweet,” he breathed as if in agony. “I can feel your spasms; so tight, so damn good! Ah, Shannon, I can’t hold back!”
“I—love—you,” Shannon gasped, unable to control the words that flew from her lips.
His restraint burst into shattering release, her words beating against his brain as his body shook with wave after wave of shuddering rapture. When they returned from their incredible journey, they stared at one another for long moments, holding each other, awed into silence by the explosive bliss they had shared.
Unable to speak, Blade’s thoughts ran rampant. Even if they never saw each other again, he had enough sweet memories to last forever. He had but to close his eyes and Shannon would be there. No one could deprive him of the certain knowledge that he was the man who had led her into womanhood and taught her the meaning of passion. In his arms she had become a woman—his woman. And she had given him a taste of the kind of love few people experienced in their lifetime.
“Blade, what are you thinking?”
“That I’d like to wake up with you in my arms like this every day of my life.”
Shannon was determined not to cry the next morning when Blade bid her good-bye. If only he hadn’t made it sound so final, as if he never expected to see her again. He didn’t know her very well if he thought she’d change her mind about waiting for him. For her, love came only once, and she’d wait forever if she had to, until Blade was ready to commit himself to her for all time. She understood about his grandfather and his need to help his people, and she prayed he wouldn’t decide to stay with the Sioux permanently. He had lived in the white world for ten years, and Shannon counted on the pull of civilization and the love they shared to bring him back to her.
Chapter Fourteen
Shannon’s cool reception during the following weeks left Clive Bailey reeling in confusion. Christmas came and went. Shannon returned Clive’s expensive gift with a polite note and declined his company at the New Year’s Eve dance, chosing instead to go with a timid young lieutenant who’d make no demands on her. Unfortunately, Clive did manage to corner Shannon at the dance, much to her chagrin.
“Why are you avoiding me, Shannon?” he asked when he found her alone in a rare moment between dance partners.
“I—I’m not,” she faltered lamely, recalling her promise to Blade.
“Have you forgotten your plantation? I have the means to restore it to you. I meant it when I said I’m wealthy. I can prove it to you if you’d let me.”
Shannon’s answer was forestalled when her escort came to claim her for the next dance.
Later, when Shannon went to freshen up in the ladies’ xroom, she was intercepted by Claire. The lovely brunette continued to remain openly hostile to Shannon despite her warm friendship with the elder Greers.
“Once again you have all the men panting after you,” Claire accused her. “I hope you’re satisfied.”
“You have no reason to be jealous of me, Claire,” Shannon insisted.
“Jealous! Is that what you think? Don’t be ridiculous. I saw you talking with Clive Bailey tonight. He seems quite smitten with you. You could do worse, you know. You’re without kin here at Fort Laramie, and you’d do well to marry the man if he’ll have you. Or are you still pining over the half-breed?”
“I have no idea why you hate me, Claire, and truthfully, I don’t care,” Shannon retorted. “What I do, or with whom, is none of your concern.”
“But it is. I don’t like the way Ronald looks at you, or the way you flirt and carry on with every officer at the fort.”
“You’re imagining things. I wouldn’t have Lieutenant Goodman on a silver platter. He was responsible for an unprovoked attack on innocent people.”
“They were Indians, for God’s sake! What makes you think they were innocent?”
“Blade found his grandfather alive and learned the truth from him. Mad Wolf wasn’t in the village.”
“You’ve seen Blade!” Claire smirked knowingly. “You’ve been consorting with the half-breed behind our backs. The parents of your students won’t be pleased. How will you support yourself without a job?”
Shannon wanted to shout out her love for Blade, to tell the world how proud she was to love such an extraordinary man. But she needed the job, and it definitely wasn’t the right time to reveal her sentiments.
“You’ll look mighty foolish making an accusation you can’t prove. I’m a good teacher, and you will have a difficult time convincing folks to fire me.”
Claire sniffed disdainfully, realizing the truth of Shannon’s words. Truth to tell, she was jealous of the little witch. She’d give anything if Blade looked at her the way she’d seen him look at Shannon. He fairly reeked of power and sexuality and Claire envied any woman who experienced love in the arms of a vital and aggressive male like Blade.
Claire wasn’t the innocent everyone thought her to be. She had tasted passion at an early age, having succumbed to a lusty private at her father’s last duty station. Since then she’d kept her liaisons secret, threatening to cry rape if word leaked out. She deliberately chose young enlisted men intimidated by her father’s rank and frightened of the consequences should they be found out. Not even Lieutenant Goodman knew of her dalliances, for she had fooled him into believing he had taken her virginity the first time they made love. Claire would have liked to add Blade to her list of conquests, but he’d never exhib
ited the least interest in her as a woman.
“If you will excuse me, Claire, my escort is waiting.” Shannon rose and left the room. If looks could kill, she thought, she’d be plucking daggers out of her back.
February 1868 brought an unexpected thaw in an otherwise bleak winter, much to Shannon’s delight. But that was not all that pleased her, though she was somewhat shocked by the idea. Talk of allowing women to vote was sweeping Wyoming like wildfire. It was a well-known fact that Wyoming was trying to attract emigrants, especially women. Precious few women were willing to brave the ferocious plains Indians and severe weather.
It was astounding to think that women’s suffrage would come to such a wild and far-flung place as Wyoming before women were permitted to vote in more civilized states in the East. It was a highly controversial issue, widely debated by both men and women alike. Generally women favored getting the vote, but the male population debunked the idea, saying it would cause women to leave home and hearth and invade male-dominated domains.
Molly Greer was thrilled at the prospect of being able to vote and solicited Shannon’s help in organizing women’s groups urging for the passage of a suffrage bill. Though little more than an idea at this time, territorial secretary Edward M. Lee and legislator William H. Bright were said to be penning such a bill in hopes of attracting more settlers. There were under one thousand females in all of Wyoming over the age of ten, as compared to nearly sixty-one hundred males.
In the East, women such as Anna Dickinson and the beautiful Redelia Bates lectured long and fervently in behalf of women’s rights and Molly held out the hope that one day they would come to Wyoming to speak.
Meanwhile Shannon concentrated on teaching the children under her charge, enjoying the challenge of a profession she had never before considered. She knew Mama, Tuck, and her siblings would be proud of her accomplishments and wished they were there to see her.
Shannon spent considerable time worrying about her maverick brother, Devlin, though. He was so hot-headed, so darn unpredictable, and she hoped he hadn’t gotten himself into trouble. If only her father had lived to keep his family together instead of—but it was too late to wish for what might have been.
Not a day went by that Shannon did not think of Blade. Was he surviving the severe winter? Did he have sufficient food and adequate shelter? Was he warm? Did he miss her as much as she missed him?
One day in March, Shannon set out for Clive Bailey’s trading post shortly before closing time. She was baking bread and found she lacked enough salt for her mixture. Donning her coat and boots she trudged through the muddy square to the store. She knew the hour was late but hoped the trading post would still be open, for she wanted to set her bread to rising before she retired for the night.
To Shannon’s dismay, she found the store deserted when she entered. A lamp on the counter was left burning, but Clive was nowhere in sight. She nearly decided to take the salt she needed and pay Clive the next day when the murmur of voices coming from the storeroom behind the counter piqued her interest. Naturally curious, she sidled as close as she dared and listened. The only voice she recognized belonged to Clive Bailey. The other man spoke barely above a whisper, too low and furtive to identify.
“I want my money, Bailey—now!”
“Mad Wolf lied, he only paid me half of what he promised,” Bailey responded slyly.
“You greedy bastard! I know how much you got for the guns and I want my cut.”
“I took all the risks,” Clive contended.
“And I made certain our operation wasn’t discovered. I got rid of the government agent when his snooping brought him too close to the truth.”
“I’m not the only one his discovery would have incriminated. Besides,” Clive revealed, “I have plans for the money. I’m going to get married. After one more trip East for another load of weapons, I plan to settle down on a Southern plantation and live the life of a rich planter.”
“Marry? You? Do you have a woman back East waiting for you?”
“No, not back East,” Clive gloated. “I’m going to marry Shannon Branigan.”
Harsh derisive laughter followed Clive’s startling disclosure. “You’re either a fool or mad. She wouldn’t have you with twice the amount of gold in your poke. Quit stalling, where is the money? I don’t have time to argue with you over my share of the gold.”
Shannon was so shocked by what she heard that she stood rooted to the spot. She had no idea another man was involved in Clive Bailey’s illegal venture. She’d be willing to bet neither Blade nor Major Vance was aware of it either. Who could it be? One of the townspeople? A trooper from the fort? Major Vance needed to know about this latest development immediately, she told herself. She turned to leave and in her haste brushed against a hoe leaning against a shelf. It tottered sideways then crashed to the floor. Shannon froze.
“What’s that!”
“I don’t know,” Clive hissed. “Wait here while I take a look.”
Shannon just made it to the other side of the counter when Clive burst through the door.
“Shannon! How did you get in? I thought I locked the door. Business was slow tonight, so I closed early in order to sort through some merchandise in the storeroom.”
“You must have forgotten to lock the door, Clive,” Shannon said, gulping nervously. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop herself from casting furtive glances toward the storeroom. “The door was open and I walked right in.”
“Did you need something?”
“Why, yes—salt. When I saw no one about I decided to help myself and pay later. I brushed against the hoe and it fell to the floor. I’m sorry, did I do wrong?”
“No, no, you merely surprised me. As I mentioned before, I was in the storeroom when I heard something. I thought it was a thief. Or one of those pesky Indians who always hang around the fort. They’re a thieving lot.”
He reached behind him and plucked a packet of salt from the shelf. “Here is your salt, my dear.”
Shannon fished in her pocket for a coin and placed it in his hand. “Thank you. Well, I’d best be off—I’ve got bread to bake.”
“Shannon,” Clive said, lowering his voice to a mere whisper. “Have you thought any more about my proposal? Why have you avoided me these past weeks?”
Shannon prepared a curt answer, then thought better of it. It suddenly occurred to her that she was in a position to help Blade and Major Vance whether they liked it or not. She was the only one who knew about the second man involved in smuggling guns, and she could learn so much more if she pretended interest in Clive’s marriage plans.
“As a matter of fact, I’ve given your proposal serious thought,” she said slowly. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in poverty. What you offer is tempting indeed. It’s not that I’ve been deliberately avoiding you, but I needed time to think without interference.”
“Then you’ll marry me?” Clive crowed, his eyes shining excitedly. He had dreamed of possessing the chestnut-haired beauty from the moment he’d set eyes on her.
“I’ll give you my answer at the spring dance next week” Shannon hedged. Surely by then she and Major Vance would have all the evidence needed to convict and hang Clive Bailey and his secret partner. “But I will tell you this much,” she hinted coyly, “your proposal has much to commend it. Being alone in this wilderness is definitely not to my liking. I must go now, Clive.”
Clive walked her to the door. Shannon was dismayed when he pulled her into his arms and kissed her hungrily. Her first reaction was to claw at his eyes until he released her, but she restrained herself. A woman considering a man’s marriage proposal wasn’t supposed to feel disgust in his arms. So she pretended to enjoy it, enduring it until he was finished. Then she pulled away and darted out the door.
Bailey locked the door behind Shannon and hurried back to the storeroom, a silly smile pasted on his face.
“What did she want? Did she hear anything?”
“I’
d forgotten to lock the door. Shannon merely wanted to purchase some salt.”
“You were talking too low for me to hear what was said. Did she act as if she heard our conversation?”
“Shannon couldn’t have heard anything,” Clive insisted. “She was standing on the other side of the counter.”
“What makes you so sure? Perhaps I should follow her. If she goes any place but home, we can assume she heard and is going to report our conversation.”
“What are you going to do?” Clive called out as the man left through the back door.
“Nothing,” he hissed over his shoulder, “unless I think the little bitch knows what we are up to—” His words were lost to the wind as he slipped into the shadows.
Shannon strode across the parade ground at a brisk pace, unaware that she was being followed. It was growing darker and colder by the minute, and she hoped Major Vance was at home this late in the evening. Unfortunately, he was out. Shannon was told by his orderly that he was at a staff meeting, which was running late. Shannon thought her information important enough to interrupt, so she headed directly to headquarters. Sargeant Wilson sat behind the desk in the outer office.
“Can I help you, Miss Branigan?” he asked warily, recalling the last time Shannon had burst into a meeting without waiting for permission.
“Is Major Vance in his office? I must see him, it’s important.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but the major is in a staff meeting.”
“Would you please tell him I’m out here?” Shannon requested. “I need to see him immediately.”
Sargeant Wilson balked, unwilling to disturb his superior officers.
“Inform the major that Miss Branigan is here, Sargeant.” Lieutenant Goodman walked into headquarters in time to hear Shannon’s plea.
“Yes sir,” Wilson saluted. Though somewhat reluctant to interrupt the meeting, he did as he was ordered, knocking, then entering the staff room. He returned within a few minutes followed by Major Vance, a worried frown creasing his brow.
“What is it, Shannon? Sargeant Wilson said you wanted to see me, that it was urgent.”
