Wild Embrace

by Cassie Edwards

  “No one wants to feel imprisoned, by anyone,” Elizabeth cried, hugging herself with her arms. The silver minnows in the water seemed puzzled as they swam in circles around her and Strong Heart.

  “You are not the only one held captive.” Strong Heart said, his eyes flashing into hers. “Strong Heart is also a captive—of your heart. Even if I would allow you to ride away from me, or I from you, I would never be free. Do you not understand this? Do you not believe it? As long as I have breath in my body. I am yours. Totally.”

  Frustrated, Elizabeth lowered her eyes. “Oh, Strong Heart, please don’t confuse me any more than I already am,” she said softly, her voice catching in her throat.

  When his finger lifted her chin upward, and their eyes met, she even became more confused between loving him, and wanting not to.

  But when his mouth came to hers, and he kissed her, everything began to fall back into place within her heart and mind.

  And when he wrapped her within his powerful arms, the coldness of the water was forgotten. All that she felt was the heat of his flesh. She knew what she wanted.

  To be with Strong Heart. He was her heart. Her soul. Her entire being.

  She knew at this moment that she could never leave him—not as long as he wanted her with him.

  She hungrily returned the kiss, moaning as his hands slipped from her waist up to her breasts, stroking them through the clinging wetness of her dress.

  “I do need you,” she whispered, as she pulled her lips away from his. “I do want you. I love you, Strong Heart. I no longer want to flee from you. I want to stay. I love you. I adore you.”

  Strong Heart framed her face between his hands and smiled down at her. Then he placed his arms beneath her and swung her up into them, and carried her from the water, his lips again sending her into a whirlwind of desire as he kissed her until they were inside the tent.

  “Your wet clothes,” Strong Heart whispered as he slid his lips down to the hollow of her throat. “You must get them off.”

  “So I won’t come down with pneumonia?” Elizabeth said, her eyes twinkling into his as she raised her arms, allowing Strong Heart to pull the clinging dress over her head.

  “I do not wish to see you get ill,” Strong Heart said, tossing the dress aside. His long, lean fingers finished undressing her. “But the main reason for disrobing you is so that I can give you more cause to not want to leave me. Perhaps last night was not lesson enough. Today I will make love to you so that you will never, for even a moment, forget my feelings for you and yours for Strong Heart.”

  Now splendidly nude, Elizabeth drifted into Strong Heart’s embrace. His flesh quickly warmed hers as he held her and kissed her.

  Then he led her to the blankets, spreading her out on top of one, while he drew another blanket over them, so that as they made love, the heat of their bodies would be warmer than the flames of any fire.

  Elizabeth’s breath quickened with yearning as Strong Heart’s lips brushed her throat. His hands moved over her silky, satiny flesh, stroking her, teasing her.

  Then he took her mouth by storm and engulfed her in his muscled arms. She trembled with readiness as she felt the probing of his manhood at the juncture of her thighs, then arched and cried out as he drove in, swiftly and surely, his body soon moving against hers.

  She absorbed the bold thrusts, his lips drugging her, the intoxication of his kiss, and the caress of his hands, causing her to be overcome by an unbearable, sweet agony that was pressing in on her heart.

  When he slithered his lips down her neck, and he flicked a tongue around one nipple, and then the other, she gave herself up to the ecstasy. She clung to him, her fingers grasping his long, wet hair, and then down his back. Then she splayed her fingers against his buttocks and wrapped her legs around his waist and thrust her pelvis toward him, drawing him more deeply into her. He pressed endlessly deeper, his mouth moving back to her lips, their tongues tangling through parted lips. Tremors cascaded down Elizabeth’s legs.

  Strong Heart paused and looked at her, their eyes locked in an unspoken understanding, and promise of rapture.

  Then Strong Heart gathered Elizabeth to him, feeling the pleasure mounting within him, ready to go over the edge.

  One last, deep plunge inside her, and the spinning sensation rose up and flooded him. He felt the intensity of his passion exploding through every cell of his body.

  A surge of tingling heat spread through Elizabeth. Her head rolled and she emitted a cry of joy as the fire began exploding within her.

  Afterward, they clung to each other, breathing hard, sweat pearling their bodies.

  “I’m no longer cold,” Elizabeth whispered, placing a gentle hand to Strong Heart’s cheek. “I feel as if I’m on fire, my darling. What I just experienced with you was agony and bliss. How can that be?”

  “Who can explain the wonders of the body when in love?” Strong Heart said hoarsely, leaning over to kiss the pink tip of one of her breasts. “Just accept it. Just enjoy it.”

  “I do love you so,” Elizabeth said, snuggling closer to him. Then she gazed up at him and smiled. “Do you think it’s time we ate something, then went on to your village?”

  Strong Heart smiled back at her and nodded. “Ah-hah, it is time,” he said, then grabbed her more tightly into his arms and kissed her heatedly, hungrily.

  “But first, let us make love again,” he whispered to her. “Then, my la-daila. I shall give you dry clothes to wear for the rest of the journey. It will not be any that you are used to. You will wear one of my buckskin outfits.”

  She nodded her approval, then lost herself in sensual frenzy again as he lowered himself onto her and began moving, loving her slowly and leisurely this time.

  Chapter 12

  And now on the sky I look,

  And my heart grows full of weeping.

  —MRS. CRAWFORD

  Disgruntled, and his clothes snug after shrinking from riding in the rain, Earl stomped into his house, slamming the large oak door behind him.

  Dropping his saddlebags to the floor, he stared down the long corridor that led to the grand staircase, then at the doors which led from the corridor to the other rooms on the lower floor, anxious to find Elizabeth. Had she behaved while he had been gone? The long ride into the wilderness away from her had made him realize just what she meant to him. He had sworn to himself that he would pay more attention to her—make her feel more loved, more wanted. He had lost a wife due to his business concerns. He did not want to lose his daughter’s love, as well.

  “Elizabeth!” he shouted, smoothing his hands through his golden hair as he began walking down the corridor, toward the staircase, thinking that perhaps she was in her room this time of day, napping or sewing. “Baby, I’m home. Elizabeth, do you hear me? I’m home.”

  When he got to the foot of the staircase, he heard footsteps above him. He smiled and looked up, expecting Elizabeth to be there, glad to see him home safe and sound.

  But his smile quickly faded and his mouth gaped open when he did not find Elizabeth there. Instead, a young lady—a total stranger—stood at the head of the staircase, looking down at him with an awkward smile.

  Then Frannie stepped to this stranger’s side, herself looking no less nervous as she twisted and untwisted the strings of her lace-trimmed apron as she peered down at him, her eyes wide.

  “Frannie, who is that young lady and where is Elizabeth?” Earl demanded. When Frannie did not answer immediately, he began to feel unnerved.

  He glanced from the young lady, back to Frannie, then doubled his fists at his sides. “By God, Frannie, explain this lady’s presence here. Tell me why Elizabeth is not here to greet me,” he said between clenched teeth. “If you have allowed my daughter to leave this house unescorted, so help me, Frannie, you may have to swim all the way back to San Francisco, for I doubt if I would be able to tolerate such foolery from you.”

  Frannie glanced at Maysie, then with a pounding heart she looked back down at
Earl. “This here is Maysie,” she said, her voice pitched high from fear. “Elizabeth . . . Elizabeth invited her to stay with us for a while. Our sweet Elizabeth done saved Maysie from drowning in the Sound.”

  Earl’s eyebrows rose. “Drowning?” he said with a gasp. “Elizabeth risked her life for a total stranger? How, Frannie? When?”

  Frannie twisted her apron strings more as she cast her eyes to the floor, fearing to tell him the whole truth. What she had told him already had condemned her.

  Earl stomped up the stairs and when he reached the second-floor landing, he towered over Frannie and glowered at her. “So help me, Frannie, if you don’t tell me what this is all about, I’ll horsewhip you,” he said, his voice edged with anger and frustration.

  He glanced toward Elizabeth’s door. It was open and he could see that she was not there.

  Then he gave Frannie an uneasy look. “Damn it, Frannie, where is Elizabeth?” he half shouted.

  Tears streamed in silver rivulets down Frannie’s dark face. She looked slowly back up at Earl. “Massa’ Easton, she’s gone,” she sobbed. “After Maysie here told Elizabeth about the poor women locked up in that prison in Seattle, Elizabeth, with her big heart an’ all, she done take books and fruit to them women.”

  His shock was so keen, Earl had to reach for the bannister to steady himself. He clutched it, speechless for a moment. Then he forced himself not to shout at Frannie again. Right now all that was important was to get answers—answers about his beloved daughter. A frantic, hysterical Frannie would not be able to help.

  He placed a trembling hand gently on Frannie’s thick shoulder. “Hush up your crying,” he said. “I’m not going to ship you off. I’m sorry I frightened you. Now tell me how long Elizabeth has been gone.”

  Frannie burst into loud wails, shaking her head frantically. “For too long, Massa’ Easton,” she cried, now looking pitifully up at Earl. “Too long. She left yesterday mornin’ and hasn’t returned. I sent Everett to look for her. He didn’t find her. When he went to the sheriff to see if he’d seen her, the sheriff made no sense. He’d been hit over the head earlier by someone who helped turn the Indian loose from the prison. He was still not talking right when Everett asked him about Elizabeth. Seems no one knows about her, Massa’ Easton. Oh, lordy, lordy, what has become of our Elizabeth?”

  Earl’s face twisted into a grimace, frightened by Frannie’s words. There had been an escape at the prison, and the sheriff had been injured during it. If Elizabeth had been there at the time of the escape....

  “God,” he said beneath his breath, panic filling him. He began running down the stairs. “I’m going to Seattle to find Elizabeth. I’ve got to. Surely someone’s seen her!”

  His horse was still saddled from his journey. Earl quickly mounted and sunk his heels into the flanks of the animal. Snapping the reins harshly, he urged the stallion into a hard gallop. Something terrible must have happened to his daughter for her not to have returned home by now. If anything had happened to her because of her foolish do gooding, he would have no one but himself to blame—and he would never forgive himself. He shouldn’t have given her cause to be restless. He should have spent more time with her.

  And Frannie had said Elizabeth had saved the strange girl while wandering about the Sound. Who was to say where Elizabeth had wandered in his absence?

  His jaw tightened and his eyes became lit with fire. “Damn it, Frannie,” he grumbled to himself. “I thought you had more hold on her than that.”

  But he knew that he could not blame Frannie for any of it. Frannie had tried with all of her might to keep Elizabeth in line. Even in San Francisco. Elizabeth had given him and Frannie fits at times. Frannie had never been unable to stop her. His daughter had a mind of her own. She was even more stubborn than her mother had been.

  And that gave Earl much cause for concern.

  The ride to Seattle seemed to take forever, but finally he was riding up the steep hill that led to the prison.

  When he arrived at the ramshackle building, he dismounted, his eyes locking on the swaying noose on the hanging platform. An involuntary shudder coursed through him at the sight. He had seen many hangings in his lifetime.

  But the worst sight of all for him had been when he had been in China. The Chinese did not hang their condemned. Instead, they lined them up in a row in the center of the city, and chopped their heads off.

  Shaking the memory from his mind, Earl walked quickly to the prison, and marched into the office. The sheriff was sitting with his feet propped up on the desk. What Earl saw on top of the desk made him pale and feel light-headed.

  “Elizabeth’s books,” he gasped, knowing them well, for he had bought every one of them for her during his travels. He now knew that she had been there.

  She had brought the books to the incarcerated women. as Frannie had said. But what then had happened to her?

  “What’d you say about those books?” Sheriff Nolan said, rubbing the raw, aching knot at the base of his skull. “Do you know the woman they belong to?”

  Earl sighed heavily as he shifted his gaze to the sheriff. “More to the point,” he said dryly, “do you know her? Do you recall her being here?”

  “Who wants to know?” Sheriff Nolan asked, rising slowly from his chair. He ambled out from behind the desk and stood eye to eye with Earl.

  Earl squared his shoulders. “I’m her father,” he said, leaning his face into the sheriff’s, repulsed by the foul odor of chewing tobacco and rotgut whiskey. “Now you tell me. Where is she? She didn’t make it back home after comin’ here with her books.”

  “Oh? Is that a fact?” Sheriff Nolan said, resting his hands on the handles of his pistols at each hip. “Describe this daughter to me and I’ll tell you whether or not she’s been here.”

  “Damn it, Sheriff, I already know she’s been here,” Earl said. He nodded toward the books. “Those are hers. You don’t look like the sort that reads, or pays for books.”

  Sheriff Nolan shrugged and went to his desk, lifting up a book and slowly turning the pages. “She’s an educated redhead, is she?” he asked. He recalled yanking her basket from her and wrestling her to the floor. Right after, he had been knocked unconscious. Ever since he had regained consciousness he had thought of hardly anything else but the redhead and that she had probably participated in the escape. She had been the distraction, and it sure as hell had worked.

  Sheriff Nolan quickly decided not to let Earl in on his assumptions about Elizabeth. He had his own score to settle with the slut.

  “So you did see my daughter?” Earl said, impatient with the sheriff’s vagueness.

  “Yeah, guess I did at that,” Sheriff Nolan grumbled, slamming the book back down on his desk. “But that was short-lived. Soon after our introduction, someone knocked me out.” He shrugged. “As far as I can figure, she’s been taken captive by whoever hit me and set the Injun loose from his cell. Yeah, that’s how I see it.”

  On hearing the sheriff say that Elizabeth had been abducted, the reality of the situation hit Earl hard. It was as if someone had slapped him across the face. He tottered, feeling a sudden queasiness. His sweet, his precious daughter’s life was at the mercy of hardened criminals, one of them an Indian condemned to die!

  It was hard for him to bear—the possibility of having lost his daughter forever.

  Then he came to his senses, realizing that something had to be done.

  A posse. Yes, a posse had to be formed. Why was the sheriff here when Elizabeth had to be found?

  The sheriff moved behind the desk again and slouched down into his chair. He reached for a fresh plug of chewing tobacco and bit off a large wad, stuffing it into one corner of his mouth.

  Earl had to work hard at controlling his temper at the sheriff’s indifference. He leaned his hands on the desk and looked the sheriff square in the eye. “You say my daughter has been abducted and you just sit there twiddling your thumbs and chewin’ that damn tobacco?” he said, his voice co
ld and steady. “Am I to expect nothing more from you? You allow an innocent girl to be abducted and you talk about it as if it is something that happens every day, and nothing to concern your ass about?”

  “I wouldn’t get myself riled up too much before knowing everything,” Sheriff Nolan said, turning his head, to spit a long stream of tobacco juice into the stained spittoon. “There’s a posse out there somewhere busy lookin’ for the criminals, and your daughter. That’s all that can be done at this point.”

  The sheriff leaned his elbows on the desk. “Now I’d suggest you go home and wait for the posse’s return. Do you get my meaning? There ain’t nothin’ you can do here, ’cept get me riled, and I don’t think you want to get me riled, eh? What did you say your name was?”

  “I didn’t,” Earl said through clenched teeth, his eyes narrowed with anger.

  “A name is needed if you want to know the results of the posse’s findings,” Sheriff Nolan said, smiling crookedly up at Earl, enjoying his fooling with the man. If the redhead was found, safe and sound, her father would be the last to know. Jed would take his turn with her before her father had a chance to even realize that she was alive. What he had planned for her would not paint a pretty picture.

  She was worse than the outlaw who had been set free from the prison. She was a whoring seductress who had made a fool out of him. And no woman made a jackass out of Sheriff Jed Nolan and lived to tell it, he thought darkly to himself.

  Earl wasn’t quick to respond to the sheriff’s command, seeing too much about the man that did not ring true. He seemed an untrustworthy sort. Earl was amazed that such a man had been elected to be sheriff.

  Yet too often in bawdy seaport towns, these were the kind of men in power that he had run into. And he had no choice but to trust that this lawman would do right by his daughter.

  “My daughter’s name is Elizabeth,” Earl said, his voice guarded. “Elizabeth Easton.” He reached a hand to the sheriff. “I’m new in town. I’m establishing a fishery down the Sound a mile or two. At the old Pike Mansion. I’m sure you’ve heard about it. I’m Earl Easton.”