“But, my dear, do not fret over my moving from this beloved house,” Nancy quickly interjected, drawing Lauralee’s eyes quickly back to her. “It and twenty-two acres of land around this house have been given to the city of Mattoon to be used as a public park. It was my husband’s dream that this land one day be a park. He bequeathed it to the city in his will. I have seen that his dream will come true.”
“Such a marvelous thing to do for the city,” Lauralee said softly. “The name of the park. Will it be named after Uncle Abner?”
“Yes, it will carry both our names,” Nancy said, flicking tears from her eyes with a gloved hand. “It will be called Peterson Park. It should serve the people of Mattoon well from generation to generation.”
Lauralee walked to the back of the house and gazed across the vastness of the land. Towering trees were everywhere, as well as a vast carpet of grass. She went to the huge flower garden and fell to her knees and began to gather a bouquet of snapdragons that she would place on her uncle’s grave.
When a hand touched her shoulder, she turned smiling eyes up at Dancing Cloud. “I feel him here even now, Dancing Cloud,” she murmured. “I feel my uncle in the gentle breeze and in the soft whispering sound of the wind through the trees.”
Dancing Cloud smiled and nodded to her, seeing that she finally understood about the spirit path and how no one ever truly left you once they entered that other world where there were no sorrows, no prejudices, no hatred.
Once her flowers were gathered, they boarded the carriage once again. As they rode toward Charleston, to go to the Mound Cemetery, Lauralee no longer feared going to her uncle’s grave. She did not feel that she had truly lost him after all.
Yes, he was there with her even now, the power of his smile reaching down from the heavens.
Chapter 35
Thou art my own, my darling, and my wife.
—ARTHUR JOSEPH MUNBY
Several months later.
All was perfectly content in quietness as Dancing Cloud and Lauralee rode a one-horse sleigh in the moonlight. They were buried deep under a buffalo robe blanket. Bells rang and jangled as the runners of the sleigh hissed upon the crisp, new-fallen snow.
Lauralee snuggled against Dancing Cloud as he tended the reins. Nothing was better than a winter blanket and her man to share it with. There was nothing more comforting against the cold. It was as if the great buffalo were still alive, sharing its great, ungainly body heat.
“I’ve never been happier,” she said, slipping a gloved hand through the crook of Dancing Cloud’s arm, clinging to him. “And look how lovely everything is? It is as though we are traveling through a vast wonderland.”
The bare branches overhead silently spoke of a new year. The tall, stately trees, veterans of so many winters, had quietly bent under restless winds and heavy ice. Hidden beneath the crusty earth were wiry roots of spring.
Bulbs beneath a thick blanket of brown leaves covered by the snow were patiently waiting to burst forth in the spring with their lovely flowers.
When the earth was still and bare, the somber gray-brown bark of a hickory tree trunk could be quite magical and breathtaking.
“It is beautiful now, but as you know, come spring and our people return to planting their crops, some will curse the thawing ground,” Dancing Cloud said, flicking his horse’s reins.
“Yes, I have learned that with each frost and thaw the earth heaves up a new crop of stones that must be cleared before the spring plowing can begin,” she said, proud of all of the knowledge that she had absorbed since she had made her home in these Great Smoky Mountains.
Dancing Cloud smiled at her. “‘Picking rocks’, it is called,” he chuckled.
He then looked around at the serenity of the day. “Winter is a favorite time of mine,” he said, nodding. “It is a time to gather thought.”
More snow fell. Lauralee felt the magic, the stillness, and excitement, when the winter turned its world into a blank white sheet upon which one’s imagination could range free.
“Let’s make love out here in the snow,” she blurted, hearing the creak of the snow-laden branches.
Dancing Cloud gazed ahead and caught sight of an antlered buck and his doe. They turned their quick eyes to the horse and sleigh, then away they suddenly went, tails up, with long leaps over the snow, lovely and slow.
“I am happy in the company of our forest friends,” he said.
He turned his dark eyes to Lauralee. Her skin was as pale as the snow, all blushed with the evening’s quiet pinks. “You would like for your husband to warm your body beneath the buffalo blankets?” he asked, his eyes dancing into hers.
Snuggled and hooded in a coat of rabbit’s fur, Lauralee nodded anxiously, her pulse racing. “Please, my darling, I need you,” she murmured. “But not for warming my body. I want you, for wanting’s sake, alone.”
Dancing Cloud drew a tight rein beneath a snow-laden maple tree. He dropped the reins to the floor of the sleigh, then took the buffalo blanket and drew it entirely over himself and Lauralee as she stretched out on the sleigh on another thick layer of blankets.
Dancing Cloud and Lauralee laughed as they shook off clothes that impeded their lovemaking. When they were ready, Dancing Cloud ran his hands up and down the satiny flesh of Lauralee’s thigh, her skin warm, smooth, and inviting.
Lauralee seemed to be in a state of suspended animation as they began making love. While the wind moaned and whistled around the sleigh, the air beneath the buffalo blanket was charged with heat and excitement.
Dancing Cloud’s mouth covered Lauralee’s with a heated kiss. She moaned with passion against his lips. She lifted her hips and rocked with him, his arms holding tight.
As he moved with her, their bodies joined as one. Lauralee abandoned herself to the torrent of feelings that swam through her. She nestled close to him, her breathing quickening as she already felt the pleasure mounting and spreading.
Dancing Cloud’s kiss became more demanding. Lauralee trembled with a quickening rapture, the curl of heat tightening inside him.
As Dancing Cloud’s passion rose, he felt himself being drawn into the feeling of a vast, spreading fire.
And then the explosion rocked his whole being as he came to that moment of wild abandon, when nothing but giving and taking total pleasure was the ultimate goal. He clung to Lauralee. He moaned against the long, sweet column of her throat.
Lauralee tossed her head back and forth, the intensity of the pleasure filling her, spilling over, spreading, her gasps long, soft whimpers into the still snow-filled air on the mountain path.
Their bodies then subsided exhaustedly into each other’s. The sharp cry of a blue jay jerked them out of their reverie. Lauralee giggled. Dancing Cloud laughed.
“Did I warm you enough, my o-ge-ye?” he teased.
“More than a dozen fires in a fireplace.” Lauralee laughed.
The horse whinnied. The bluejay cried again. The wind howled more feverishly outside the covering of the buffalo blanket.
“I guess it’s time to return to the real world.” Lauralee sighed. They quickly dressed. “I believe Brian Brave Walker has plans tonight. He said something about using our horse and sleigh, to take a friend from the neighboring village for a ride.”
“She is a woman friend?” Dancing Cloud asked, pausing to frown at her.
“Yes, a woman friend,” Lauralee said softly.
“He is too young to think so seriously about women,” Dancing Cloud grumbled.
“Darling, life is too short to measure one’s love by age,” Lauralee said, gently touching his cheek. “If he’s in love, let it be.”
“Just like I should allow our daughter to continue corresponding with that Brown boy from Mattoon?” Dancing Cloud said, sarcasm thick in his voice.
“I’ve told you time and again that nothing but a sincere friendship can ever come of that relationship,” Lauralee softly argued. “Remember how much older Wilnoty is than Noah.”
&n
bsp; Before they threw aside the buffalo blanket and returned to their seat, Lauralee framed her husband’s face between her hands. “Darling, let our children enjoy their young lives,” she murmured. “I had no life, till you. I was robbed of so many sweet moments that most young people share. Please relax with our children. Please?”
Dancing Cloud drew her suddenly into his arms and held her close. “I want what is best, always, for our children,” he said, then tilted her lips to his. “And your words about what is best for our children are wise. I find that I am a selfish father sometimes.”
“You are a wonderful father and husband,” Lauralee quickly corrected. “Ah, but how I would love another kiss, my darling.”
He chuckled, then gave her a kiss that made her head spin, the shared bliss always there between them, gently sweet and wonderful.
Don’t miss Cassie Edwards’s next Zebra release!
WILD BLISS
No maiden in the vast northern plains was as lovely as Dawnmarie Garrett—or in such a precarious position.
Long ago, she felt the passion of White Wolf, chief of the Chippewa, call to her across the lake’s still waters, and she dreamed that his tribe would accept her when he made her his forever.
But that was before a band of renegade Sioux killed her English father in a raid of terror and sent Dawnmarie fleeing for her life, not knowing what had become of her gentle mother. In a frighteningly uncertain world, fate could make Dawnmarie a slave to the cruel Sioux . . . or join her soul to White Wolf, her warrior lover.
ABOUT CASSIE EDWARDS
After my children were grown, I found myself restless, searching for ways to busy my idle hands and mind. I discovered my love of writing, and I was drawn to the mystique of Native American lore. What I learned about the Native American people inspired me to bring their stories to life through the wonderful genre of historical romance.
Having lived in St. Louis for thirty years, my husband and I moved to a small town when he retired from teaching. My dream house is peaceful and quiet, where an occasional curious red fox ventures onto the sun deck and peeks into my office, and where I can watch swallows building their nests and raising their babies right outside my kitchen window. It is a perfect place to create my stories.
I feel blessed to have found a “second life,” the first having been spent raising two happy and healthy sons. Writing my Native American romances is my small tribute to those beautiful first people of our land, who have suffered so much injustice.
Wild Abandon Page 35
