After the Thunder

by Genell Dellin

  He hated that thought, but it was true. However, he had gone away on business to let time pass and let that fact fade from people’s minds, including Cotannah. Now, a whole week and a half later, hardly anyone would remember. They were all talking about the horse races a couple of days ago, from what he’d already overheard this evening, and everyone he’d talked to since he arrived at Tay’s annual nut-gathering social had treated him just as respectfully as ever.

  He bent one leg and propped his heel against the rough bark of the pecan’s trunk, and cocked his head to watch Cotannah while in his imagination he stripped her clothes off. Smiling, he shook his head in amazement.

  The little minx was determined to be outrageous in every way, wasn’t she? He knew a bit about ladies’ fashions from ordering for the new mercantile and who ever heard of a woman wearing a man’s faded work jacket made of that blue denim cloth like the Levi Strauss work breeches? And even more incredible, wearing it with a dress that fairly shouted to his shrewd merchant’s eye that it was made of the best quality silk?

  What a bold little jade she was, just the kind he liked! The jacket was unbelievably alluring in its contrast to her lushly female form, plus she wore it unbuttoned halfway down and he’d caught glimpses of a positively indecent amount of smooth skin and swelling breasts where there should have been fabric of the dress.

  Obviously, tonight she had chosen her costume just for him. It was a way for her to tell him that now was time. Time for him to give her a taste of what she’d been begging for ever since the minute she’d laid eyes on him.

  “Jacob? I need to talk to you.”

  Jacob nearly jumped right out of his skin. The voice was so close and so completely unexpected that he couldn’t immediately identify it.

  He swung around to see Tay Nashoba standing at his shoulder. Damnation! The man had crept up on him like the unreconstructed savage that he was.

  “Chief Nashoba,” he drawled, fighting to keep his voice steady.

  Good God! That kind of a surprise could make a man’s heart stop beating!

  Tay stepped out of the deepening shade behind Jacob and stood beside him, looking out at his guests, some sitting and talking, some tending the fire which would be welcome as soon as the sun went down, some gathering nuts, which was the ostensible reason for this big, annual get-together.

  “People love to come to socials this time of year, don’t they?” Tay said, musing thoughtfully as if he’d never said he needed to talk to Jacob. “I think it’s because the coolness in the fall gives us new energy after the summer’s heat.”

  Jacob bit back a sharp retort. He had to remember that this idiot was the chief and a great good friend of Olmun’s.

  And he couldn’t appear too impatient, but yet he would. His screaming nerves demanded to know what Tay wanted.

  “You said you wanted to talk to me?”

  Tay’s manner changed abruptly.

  “I’ve been hearing some rumors,” the chief said, “that you may have some friends among the Boomers.”

  The soft-spoken words drenched Jacob’s spirits as if he’d stepped out of the house into a cold rain. His stomach tightened, and his blood pulsed faster.

  “You can hear anything these days,” he said, fighting to keep his words slow and level while he shook his head sorrowfully, “anything at all. Me and the Boomers?”

  “Right. That word has drifted to my ears from more than one source.”

  How infuriating! How totally insulting!

  “Well, your sources are wrong!”

  Jacob clamped his teeth over his lower lip to stop more words from coming out until after he managed to calm down.

  “Sometimes you talk progress and cooperation with the whites so vehemently that a person might interpret your views to mean you’d be in favor of giving up our holding land in severalty,” Tay said coolly. “Do you realize that?”

  A fearful trembling tried to take him, but he fought it off. He hadn’t been that obvious, surely! He was not that stupid, he was not!

  He tried to take a deep, calming breath without being obvious about it. He had to soothe Tay’s suspicions and then somehow destroy them once and for all—why, his whole life’s freedom was riding on this deal with the Boomers. If he ever was to be free of Olmun’s dictates, he couldn’t let it come to light now.

  “Chief Nashoba,” he said, turning his head to look straight into the chief’s piercing gray eyes. “Tay. You know I have enemies. That’s been true since the day I was born—people jealous of my position and my wealth will say anything to bring me down to their level.”

  “I know.”

  Jacob listened for a moment to the echo of the chief’s tone of voice in his head. Thoughtful. The chief was being very thoughtful now when only moments earlier he’d been hard and nearly decided.

  He hid a smile behind his hand. Why had he worried? No more persuasive man than Jacob Charley ever walked the face of the earth. With a few more well-chosen words he could wipe this problem out of existence once and for all.

  “Then it grieves me that you would give any credence whatsoever to such vicious talk,” he said, trying to sound sad instead of angry. “You know me as well as anybody in the Nation.”

  “And you know me,” Tay Nashoba said, in his usual haughty way. “I would never bring grief and shame to your father without cause, for he is truly a fine man and a Choctaw patriot. But if I find proof that you are working for the Boomers to open our land up to white settlement, Jacob Charley, even my respect for Olmun will not stop me from bringing charges of treason against you.”

  Now the chief’s voice wasn’t thoughtful at all; it was harder than flint. He meant what he said. He said it again.

  “Betray the People, Jacob, and I’ll see you shot.”

  And then the arrogant son of a bitch simply turned and walked away, as quietly as he had come.

  Jacob’s blood boiled high, roaring in his ears until it blocked out the happy voices and laughter of the others at the social. All right. If that was the way the Principal Chief was going to talk to him, him, Jacob Charley, of the most prominent family in the Nation, then the Principal Chief would have to be taught a lesson.

  Bedding Cotannah Chisk-Ko, the Chief’s houseguest, while she was under the Chief’s protection, entrusted to his care by her brother, the powerful Cade Chisk-Ko, would make a fitting insult. He grinned. Not that he wouldn’t have done it, anyway. But now he’d make sure the Chief would hear about it—even if he had to tell it himself.

  Tay Nashoba needed to learn that he was not all-powerful.

  Yes. And Cotannah’s brother, Cade Chisk-Ko, was another arrogant bastard, and it’d serve him right if his spoiled little sister was violated while she was under the protection of Cade’s best friend.

  He smiled and turned to look for the glow of the rose-colored dress in the shadows thrown by the trees. Finding Cotannah was easy, even in the crowd and the dusk because her full skirts shone and glimmered like a blossoming flower and, of course, a gaggle of young men had gathered around her. He began strolling toward her. No doubt about it. This was going to be a pleasure in more ways than one.

  A large, warm hand settled itself in the small of Cotannah’s back, nestling there as if she had invited it. Well! Daniel certainly was becoming much more forward. She laughed and touched Robert’s arm in appreciation of the joke he had just finished telling and then glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see his taller cousin looking down at her with his usual adoration.

  Instead, Jacob Charley smiled at her.

  “You remind me of a wild-vining rose tonight, Miss Cotannah, in your rose-colored dress,” he said. “How about rambling through the pecan orchard with me?”

  He let his heated gaze linger on hers for a long moment then, abruptly, he looked straight at Robert Bonham.

  “You will excuse us, I’m certain, sir,” he said. “Good evening.”

  The younger man’s face flushed a deep, angry red, but he turned on his heel and
strode away without a word. She was relieved to see the back of him, really, Cotannah thought—never in all her life had she met anyone with such a store of jests that were not funny in the least—but she wouldn’t let Jacob know that.

  She pulled away from the growing pressure of his hand and frowned at him over her shoulder.

  “And what makes you think you have the right to run off my beaux?” she demanded saucily. “You may have discouraged them forever.”

  “That’s exactly what I intended.”

  He captured her gaze with his and held it.

  She launched a new attack, determined to get the upper hand.

  “You sneaked up behind me when I wasn’t looking,” she complained with a pout of her lips, as she turned around to face him and took a few slow steps backwards. “I hardly think that is fair.”

  “I won’t fight fair for you, my dear.”

  He spoke softly, but his dark eyes were gleaming at her so hotly that it seemed inconceivable that someone—Tay, for instance, acting as Cade’s agent—didn’t notice and come over to interrupt them. After all, they were right in the middle of dozens of people. A quick glance, though, proved everyone oblivious. Neither Daniel nor Robert Bonham was anywhere to be seen.

  But they could probably see her and it would do them good to see they had a rival for her attentions. And, if he were anywhere around, it would do Walks-With-Spirits good to see that she would decide her own behavior, totally independent of whatever criticisms he might make.

  “I wasn’t aware that you would fight for me at all,” she said, tilting her head and batting her eyelashes at Jacob, “fair or foul.”

  “With my last breath.”

  He spoke in a tone of deepest sincerity, then he smiled and winked at her, rogue that he was. Good. This was exactly what she needed—a man bent on no more than amusement, just like herself.

  “Why, Mr. Charley!” she gasped, pretending to be shocked.

  Then she mirrored exactly his rascal’s smile.

  “Did you do something foul to poor Daniel Bonham? One minute he was the one right there behind me, the next it was you.”

  “I did not. I simply touched him on the shoulder, gave him a look, and he faded quietly away into the dusk.”

  “You’re such a powerful man! Within only a moment, you have frightened both the cousins into deserting me!”

  She put her hands on her hips, pretending to be miffed, a move to bring attention to her breasts, straining against the half-fastened confines of the jacket. The heat in his eyes burst into flames.

  “Come with me, my wild rose,” he said, in a husky tone. “Let’s get away from these people so that we can get acquainted without all their prying eyes. I want to tell you how I feel when I look at you.”

  Gallantly, he offered her his arm. She took it, and they started walking toward the edge of the clearing, his eyes devouring her as they went.

  It felt good to be completely, totally, the object of a man’s approving attention. The Bonham boys were all right, but they were just that—boys—and they were constantly as aware of themselves and each other as they were of her.

  “I never knew that you were such a natural poet, sir,” she said with a flashing smile. “No gentleman has ever called me a wild rose before.”

  He drew her a bit closer to his side.

  “Ah, my dear, but I did not call you a wild rose,” he said, with a dashing smile. “I called you my wild rose and that is exactly what I meant.”

  She pulled a little bit away from him but tossed her head and flashed him a look that bade him come closer if he dared.

  “I belong to no one but myself,” she said.

  He raised one eyebrow.

  “Of course you do,” he said quickly. “I’m speaking only in reference to myself versus other suitors.”

  He smiled down into her eyes. Then he began walking faster, leading her deeper into the rolling woods, his hand firmly over hers on his arm.

  “We can’t go too far from the others,” she said. “Emily will be looking for me.”

  He stopped, suddenly, and took both her hands in his, swinging backwards a few steps so he could look at her.

  “Ah,” he said, “but something tells me that you didn’t wear this dress for Emily.” He gave her that devil’s grin. “Now, did you? Tell me the truth.”

  She couldn’t resist grinning back. “No.”

  His eyes roamed over her, openly admiring every inch of her. He thought she was beautiful—it was written all over his face. Really, he was perfect for her stay here, perfect to prove to everyone that she could attract a prominent man even though she might be living under the roof of one who had rejected her. Best of all, he, like herself, was nothing but a flirt, and he would never cause her the kind of problems that Tonio had created. She held his meaningful gaze for a moment longer, then lowered her eyelashes coquettishly and looked away.

  Right into the arresting face of Walks-With-Spirits.

  He stood beside the trunk of one of the big pecan trees, as completely still as if he, too, had roots that ran deep into the ground. But his eyes were as alive as fire, they were burning lights in his wooden face, as bright and gleaming in the shadows of the deepening dusk as the big yellow eyes of Basak the panther sitting at his feet. Another set of eyes glowed in the darkness behind him. The coyote, Taloa, without doubt.

  The flames of his eyes wouldn’t leave her—they set her face and her bare throat to smoldering, the biting heat grew and grew in every pore of her skin. Beneath it, though, the inside of her body felt a sudden, deathly chill, as if she had a fever. Oh! Would he never smile at her again?

  “Go away!” she cried. “You’ve already told me what you think of me, so you can just go away! Stop spying on me!”

  She sounded like a petulant child, she knew it the minute the words left her mouth, but she couldn’t call them back. Whirling away from the touch of those terrible eyes, she caught Jacob’s arm and began walking away, fast, away from Walks-With-Spirits, who was nothing but a self-righteous prude, always standing apart from the rest of the human race. Judging, Judging.

  Well, he had no right to judge her!

  “Has that charlatan insulted you?” Jacob asked. “Would you like me to demand satisfaction?”

  “No,” she said quickly. “No. I … hated that … altercation you all had behind the store the other day.”

  “Why, Miss Cotannah!” he said in a tone that proclaimed he was truly moved by her words. “You mustn’t worry about me, for I can best that false prophet any day of the week with any weapon he might choose.”

  He didn’t turn around and march right back there to try and make good on that claim, however, she noted wryly. And what a selfish pig, how full of himself he was, leaping to the conclusion that she had been afraid for his safety!

  “No,” she said again. “Do nothing on my account. I …”

  She snapped her mouth closed, surprised by her own response. What was the matter with her, discouraging such delicious excitement as men fighting over her?

  Jacob gave a satisfied chuckle, slipped his arm around her waist, and squeezed her to him, hard, as they began to hurry through the dusk-shrouded trees. She leaned against him as the sounds of the social faded away, erased by the sounds of sticks and leaves under their feet. “I know the perfect spot to sit and talk,” he said. “I promise no one will disturb us there.”

  “Thank you, Jacob,” she murmured.

  He held her even closer, and the warmth of his body alleviated the cold inside her to a small extent.

  “You just let me know if that crazy one ever bothers you again,” he said, “but for now let’s forget all about him. I knew the minute I saw you that you wanted to spend time alone with me tonight.”

  His arrogance sent a sharp shaft of irritation through her. Well, he’d soon see that she was the one in charge here.

  She challenged him as they entered a small clearing in some pines where the darkness had grown complete except for t
he first pale rays of light from the moon.

  “Tell me now, sir, aren’t you assuming a great deal?”

  “No. Your beautiful eyes have been begging me to be alone with you ever since the night we met.”

  “As I said,” she repeated, with a teasing laugh, “you assume a great deal.”

  Without another word, he put his free hand beneath her chin and turned her mouth up to meet his. “Prove me wrong,” he whispered against her lips.

  Maybe she would, she thought, as he pressed her to him and began to kiss her. If she didn’t like a man’s kisses, she had found, she wouldn’t like any other intimacy with him, either.

  He kissed only tolerably well, but at least his blather and admiration had erased the sight of Walks-With-Spirits’s fierce face. His kiss wasn’t particularly repulsive, but it didn’t make her blood heat with desire the way Tonio’s kisses had done. Was it possible to learn to like a man’s kisses after a while?

  She desperately needed strong sensations to flood her body, to wipe out the memory of Walks-With-Spirits’s arms around her …

  The unexpected thought scared her, so she slipped her arms around his neck and made herself kiss him back.

  He gave a grunt of pleasure, thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, and dug his fingers into the flesh of her Shoulders, hurting her even through the thick fabric of her jacket. The next instant, one of his hands was in her hair, the other was cupping her bottom, and he was grinding his body against hers. She couldn’t breathe. He was crushing her.

  She realized she couldn’t learn to like his kisses, after all, and then panicked even more as memories of the bandidos came flashing fast and hard through her mind. Panic flooded her.

  She struggled to loosen his grip, to free her mouth and get some air. He wrapped her whole body closer and she felt the bulge of his manhood, growing, hardening, threatening her, even through the layers of her skirts and petticoats.

  Desperate, she tried to arch her back and, to her shock, he let her—he loosened his hold on her suddenly and then just as swiftly reached out with one hand to rip open her half-buttoned jacket. He jerked it back and off her shoulders.