“Lauralee?” he whispered, straightening his back in order to see over the embankment toward the house.
He could see the outline of a woman standing in the shadows, but he could not see the face.
He listened more intensely, the breeze only occasionally wafting the woman’s soft voice his way.
Still he could not be sure.
And if it was Lauralee?
What did it mean except that she had made acquaintance with perhaps some of the Petersons’ friends?
He hunkered low again when he heard the voices get somewhat louder.
Were they coming to the pond?
No.
It seemed that they might be arguing about something.
Then the voices got softer again.
Only the man was speaking.
The woman had gone quiet.
“Did I not tell you that I would bring Dancing Cloud’s horse to you tonight?” Paul demanded again. “I thought that we were going to spend some time together, talking.”
“I’ve thought things over, Paul,” Lauralee said, nervously and tensely clasping and unclasping her hands behind her. “I will be leaving Mattoon soon. I . . . will . . . be marrying another man.”
“You’ll what?” Paul said in an almost shout.
Frustrated, he raked his long, lean fingers through his golden hair. “You only arrived at the Petersons’,” he said, his voice drawn. “You will leave again, so soon? Do you not enjoy their company? Is mine so unbearable? How could you be considering marriage?”
He frowned. “It’s the damn Cherokee, isn’t it?” he grumbled. “He’s coerced you into leaving town with him, hasn’t he?”
Lauralee squared her shoulders angrily. “No man forces me to do anything that I don’t wish to do,” she said, her voice drawn. “Especially not you, Paul Brown. You have some nerve to think that you mean so much to me.”
Paul stepped from the porch.
Lauralee slowly backed away from him.
“When I kissed you last night I felt you respond to the kiss,” Paul said, reaching a hand to her cheek.
Lauralee jerked away. “Paul, don’t,” she said warily. “Don’t do anything you might be sorry for later.”
“All I want is to kiss you again to prove a point,” Paul insisted, his arms reaching around her waist, drawing her tightly against him. “Lauralee, I’ve waited a lifetime for someone like you. I could so very easily love you.”
She glanced over and saw Dancing Cloud’s horse reined to a hitching post on the far side of the Browns’ house. If she had arrived at the farm only moments later, Paul would have left for the Peterson House. The horse was there, saddled and ready to be taken.
Thank God, she sighed to herself. She had arrived before he had left, but for other reasons than why she had planned it that way. If she had been alone at the Peterson House, then . . .
The Browns were inside their house should Paul get out of hand and unreasonable. It was already getting close to that.
She tried to shove him away, then had no choice but to give in when his powerful arms anchored her against him as he kissed her long and hard.
Dancing Cloud’s eyes widened and his mouth went agape.
Lauralee.
He now knew that the woman was Lauralee!
She had stepped into the reflection of the moonlight.
He was able to see her face.
And she was being kissed by a man!
From this vantage point he saw that she was willingly returning the kiss!
Anger filled Dancing Cloud’s veins and heart. He started to pull himself out of the water but stopped when a low growling sound came close.
A collie suddenly bounded into sight and ran toward the pond, barking.
Dancing Cloud stayed still, then lifted a hand to the collie when it reached the embankment. He had always had a way with animals of the forest, as well as dogs of all breeds. There was something magical that flowed between himself and animals.
Even this dog that was only moments ago looking so wild and vicious was now spread out on its belly, licking Dancing Cloud’s hand as though the Cherokee had been a friend, forever.
Paul released Lauralee and gazed toward the pond. His dog had not barked at Lauralee because Paul had been on the porch waiting for her. He had comforted his collie into realizing that Lauralee was a friend, then his dog had leaped away and had ran into the woods.
It seemed by the behavior of the animal only seconds ago that he may have trapped something besides a raccoon or ’possum. His dog had behaved as he was taught to when a prowler came snooping down the road.
Paul stepped up onto his porch and leaned inside his front door long enough to get a rifle.
Then he went outside again and walked past Lauralee. “I’ll go and see who’s trespassin’ on my land,” he said over his shoulder.
Lauralee followed him a step or two, her eyes searching for Clint McCloud.
He had surely followed her.
Her heart pounded frighteningly as she peered more intensely past Paul.
Then her heart seemed to skip a beat and her insides quavered strangely as she watched Dancing Cloud suddenly emerge from the pond, his body wet and shiny with water, his eyes looking past Paul at her, as though he hated her.
Puzzled and confused by his presence, wondering why, and how, he had gotten there, Lauralee could not find the power to make her feet move.
She was also stunned speechless.
Then she emitted a small cry behind her hand when Dancing Cloud yanked the rifle from Paul and threw it in the water, then knocked Paul to the ground.
She expected Dancing Cloud to come to her.
Instead he disappeared among tall brush, then just as quickly rode into view on a horse.
He gave Lauralee a lingering, questioning stare, then rode toward the road.
Panic seized Lauralee.
She now knew that he had seen her being kissed.
He had misinterpreted it!
He did not know, and obviously had not heard, the true reason she was at the Brown farm.
To say a final goodbye to Paul!
And placing aside her wonder of how and why Dancing Cloud could be there, Lauralee saw no other choice than to go after him.
She looked at the horse and buggy, then at Dancing Cloud’s horse.
To catch up with Dancing Cloud she chose the horse.
So thankful that at least she had learned the art of horseback riding at the orphanage, when she had been deprived of all other outdoor activities, she ran to Dancing Cloud’s horse, quickly untied the reins, then swung herself into the saddle.
Paul ran after her. “Don’t go after him, Lauralee!” he shouted. “He’s a madman. Stop, Lauralee. Stop!”
She ignored Paul and rode onward. She leaned over the horse and sank her heels into his flanks, glad now that she had Dancing Cloud in sight. He did not seem to be riding as quickly as she would have thought.
Then she remembered his wound. That surely was hampering his riding ability. Every bounce had to cause him renewed pain.
Again she puzzled over how and why he was at the Brown farm.
Had he discovered her misguided liaison with Paul?
Had he come to spy on her?
If so, why did he have the need to hide in the pond? That, above all else that was confusing to her, was the most outlandish of all.
She rode onward, gaining on Dancing Cloud, her mind drifting back momentarily to the time when she had learned the art of riding a horse.
The owner of the orphanage in St. Louis had discovered a new breed of horse, a heavy draft-horse breed that originated in Clydesdale, Scotland.
The Clydesdale.
Scott Hopper, the owner of the orphanage, had begun breeding Clydesdale horses.
After learning the art of riding a horse after the Clydesdales had been brought to the stables at the orphanage, Lauralee had fallen in love with them; one in particular. She had named him Buddy. He was dark brow
n in coloring, with prominent white markings.
As discovered with all Clydesdale horses, Buddy became noted for his high leg action while walking or trotting. He had feathery long hair on his legs, an attractive head, and well-formed legs and feet.
But as with everything and everyone else in her life that she loved, Buddy had been taken away from her and sold to another breeder in New York.
She could let nothing take Dancing Cloud away from her. She would fight tooth and nail for him. He had to understand that what he had seen tonight was not of her own choosing.
He had to believe that she had gone to the Browns’ not only to get his horse for him, but also to tell Paul that she was going to marry Dancing Cloud!
Her heart sank, realizing now that she would also have to reveal some small truths that she had wanted to keep hidden from him—that she had for a moment or two been taken by this farmer whose eyes were so blue one could get lost in them.
Of course she would not tell Dancing Cloud that, about how she felt about Paul, or Paul’s eyes. But she would tell him that because of her deprivations as a child, she almost allowed herself to be taken in by a man she could never love.
Now only a few feet behind Dancing Cloud’s horse, Lauralee shouted at him to stop.
Dancing Cloud looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes widening when he realized whose horse she was riding. His own! Had Noah Brown brought the horse to the Petersons’? Is that why she was riding him?
No. He now recalled that she had arrived at the farm in a buggy. That had to mean that the farm, where he had taken his moonlight swim, was the Browns’. She had surely gone to get his horse.
But who was that man he had seen kissing her?
It came to him in a flash. Noah had mentioned two sons. One had died during the war. The other was still alive.
His surviving son had seen Lauralee and had become attracted to her!
But then he recalled how she seemed to be returning his kiss.
Wanting answers, tired of speculating, he wheeled his horse to a stop and turned it around and waited for Lauralee.
Lauralee drew rein beside him. Her eyes wavered as she gazed at him.
“Why were you at the farm kissing that man?” Dancing Cloud asked tightly, the first one to demand answers.
“Why were you there, swimming in the Browns’ pond?” she demanded equally as adamantly.
They both then started to talk at once.
She with her explanations.
He with his.
When it was all over and done with, they both broke into laughter.
Lauralee leaned over and gave Dancing Cloud a hug. “Darling, don’t you know that you have my heart—lock, stock, and barrel?” she whispered. She sighed and went weak inside when he gave her that much-needed kiss of understanding.
When he groaned, she knew that it was not from passion. It seemed borne of pain.
She drew away and gazed at his wound. “Lord, you’re bleeding,” she gasped. She looked wildly into his eyes. “You should be off that horse and in a bed.”
She glanced over her shoulder, stunned to see that they had unknowingly stopped directly in front of the Peterson House.
She then took Dancing Cloud’s reins and urged his horse into a trot beside hers as she headed into the driveway of the stately house. “The doctor said that you were going to be released tomorrow from the hospital,” she said flatly. “Well, we’ll just not wait that long. You’re going to stay here and take my bed tonight. I’m going to see to the wound personally, darling. I see no need in you having to ride clear across town to go to Dr. Kemper’s, when I am here, to see to your every want and need.”
Dancing Cloud hunched over, breathing hard. “The Petersons,” he said thickly. “They may not approve of my being in their house, much less in your bed, Lauralee.”
“They will just have to accept my decision to do this,” Lauralee said stubbornly. “I have already tested the softness of the bed. It will work perfectly for you as you recover. I shall move into the other bedroom down the hall from you. I do know there is one spare bedroom not being used.”
“O-ge-ye, do you know how much I truly love you?” Dancing Cloud said.
“I’m so glad,” Lauralee murmured.
The sound of an approaching horse and buggy made Lauralee stiffen. She drew tight rein, then turned and watched Paul Brown come into the driveway in the Petersons’ horse and buggy, his horse trailing on a rope behind it.
Paul stopped and came to Lauralee. “I believe you forgot something,” he said tersely. He frowned over at Dancing Cloud, then at Lauralee. “The horse and buggy. I don’t think I have a need for them, Lauralee.”
A quiet panic seized her.
Lord. Her uncle was stranded without the buggy.
Then she looked past Paul and saw another horse and buggy approaching. Dr. Kemper was driving it, her uncle on the seat beside him. It seemed she did not have to go after her uncle after all. He had surely realized that something had happened for her not to have arrived back at the hospital as expected. The doctor had delivered him to his doorstep.
Dr. Kemper and Abner left the buggy. They stood side by side as Lauralee rushed into explanations.
Everything was quiet for a while after she was through.
Then to her relief her uncle and the doctor went and helped Dancing Cloud from the horse and up the front steps. Her uncle had given Dancing Cloud permission to stay at his house. The doctor saw no harm in Dancing Cloud completing his recuperation period there.
And even though she knew her uncle’s resentment toward Dancing Cloud over being a Rebel, and perhaps even over being an Indian, he had pushed that resentment aside in favor of pleasing Lauralee.
Lauralee went to Paul. She took the reins to the horse and buggy. As they gazed silently at each other she could feel the tension between them. It was as tight as a rope.
She started to apologize but he didn’t give her a chance. He gave her a mock salute and rode away.
Sighing, then taking a deep breath, Lauralee gathered the reins of all of the horses but Dr. Kemper’s into her hand and led them to the stables.
She looked around and heaved another sigh. James wasn’t there to ready them for the night. It was all up to her.
She stared at the horse that Dancing Cloud had stolen. She would see to it that it got returned. She didn’t want Dancing Cloud to be arrested for horse-stealing. He could tell her approximately where he had found the horse. She would tie it at a hitching rail and the owner would surely soon find it.
Lauralee lit a kerosene lamp. As she worked with the horses in the semidarkness she kept peering over her shoulder. She would never be able to feel safe. Not as long as Clint McCloud was out there somewhere, a threat to her well-being.
But at least everything else seemed on the right track again.
But she could not feel comfortable with it. She still felt like that young girl at the orphanage who loved and lost more often, than not.
Chapter 18
The angels not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me.
—EDGAR ALLAN POE
It was way past the midnight hour. Everything was quiet and serene in the Peterson House, yet it thrilled Lauralee to know that just down the hall from where she lay was the sound of someone else’s breathing besides her own and her uncle Abner’s.
Dancing Cloud.
He was in her bed.
She ached to be there with him. Sometime ago she had heard Uncle Abner retire to his own bedroom.
Breathless with anticipation of going to Dancing Cloud, Lauralee slipped from the bed and crept quietly to the door.
She held her breath as she slowly opened it, glad that it made no squeaking sounds that her uncle might hear. If he caught her with Dancing Cloud he would get the wrong impression. She certainly did not intend to have a sexual encounter with Dancing Cloud.
No. She just wanted to cuddle next to her beloved and whisper sweet nothings t
o him, hopefully erasing all thoughts of Paul from his mind.
Seeing no lamplight spilling beneath her uncle’s closed bedroom door, Lauralee lifted the hem of her frilly silk chemise into her arms. She tiptoed, barefooted, down the carpeted hallway, the light of the moon reflecting through the window at the end of the hall paving her way.
Her pulse racing, she stopped outside her bedroom door and wove her fingers through her hair. She had taken pains tonight with her bath. She had washed her hair with a fragranced piece of soap. Her skin smelled sweetly from the tiny perfumed bath beads that had evaporated into a silky oil through her bath water. She smiled when she smelled the sweetness of the talcum powder that she had patted across her flesh.
Lauralee inhaled a quavering breath, then slowly opened the door and peeked inside.
Her heart melted as her eyes found Dancing Cloud lying on his side, the moonlight shining through the lacy, sheer curtains at her window caressing his long, lean body.
Lauralee’s face flushed crimson when she saw that Dancing Cloud was nude.
Then she recalled her uncle having taken Dancing Cloud’s wet fringed breeches and moccasins, to let them dry on the back porch rail.
Dr. Kemper had sent a young man to the Peterson House with Dancing Cloud’s belongings. Lauralee had, in turn, asked the young man to return the horse that Dancing Cloud had borrowed, glad to be rid of it.
Dancing Cloud’s saddlebag lay on the floor beside the bed. She could see that he had sorted through it. He had taken from it fresh clothes that now lay neatly across the back of a chair.
Her gaze held on a beautifully beaded pair of moccasins beside his bed. They seemed new. Had some pretty Cherokee maiden sewn them for him? she wondered.
That thought sent a painful, jealous ache through her, to think that somewhere in his past were other women with whom he had shared intimate moments.
Brushing the thought aside she stepped into the bedroom. She turned and eased the door closed, then almost screamed with alarm when she felt strong arms encircle her waist.
When she realized whose arms, and whose body was pressing into hers from behind, she closed her eyes with ecstasy.
The frilly chemise was thin enough for her to feel the full outline of his body, especially what was most defined to her at the juncture of his thighs.
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