by Gigi Moore
She screamed and came apart in his arms, inner muscles tightening around his cock like a vise and almost milking Dakota as she convulsed against him.
Yet he held back until Wyatt let loose a hoarse grunt, grasping Lily’s hips when he thrust and emptied his seed inside her.
The current of Lily’s and Wyatt’s combined releases finally dragged Dakota along. He executed two finishing strokes inside her, sliding through the hot, moist depths of her pussy until he took his pleasure on a shuddering groan.
The chorus of gasps and pants filled the great room for several long minutes as they all cuddled and caught their breath.
Wyatt recovered first, at least enough to pull out and stumble back to collapse into the room’s chair.
Dakota carried Lily over to the sofa, his legs barely holding him up before he dropped onto the cushions. He remained inside her, reluctant to pull out, before Lily took the decision out of his hands and pulled herself up off of his cock. She, however, lingered in his arms, stretching her body across his long length, purring like a satisfied cat.
Dakota sighed, very satisfied himself.
“We should go up to bed,” Lily murmured, but made no move to get up.
“For round three?” Wyatt asked from his seat.
“No, to rest. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
The gravity of her words sank in, leaving a heavy silence in their wake.
Dakota felt their recriminations even though he hoped that their encounter meant they had forgiven him.
He looked forward to finally seeing Little Wyatt reunited with his mother and with both his parents where he belonged. Only then would Dakota feel completely redeemed and vindicated.
Chapter 20
Wyatt barely slept.
Lying in bed beside Lily with Dakota beside her distracted him too much, especially after everything they’d shared together earlier in the evening. When he did managed to drift off at some point during the night, visions of a little blond, blue-eyed nipper danced through his head. When he didn’t dream about Lily and his son, he dreamed about their nonexistent daughter, a little girl with shiny chestnut hair and striking gray eyes like her mother. The third, most vivid vision was that of a third child, a combination of the best of him, Lily, and Dakota reflected in his features and happily living with all his siblings and their parents at the farmhouse Wyatt’s father had built for just such an eventuality, if not exactly the domestic scenario Wyatt envisioned.
He wondered just what his father and mother would think of the situation with him and Lily and Dakota. Both had been hard-working, God-fearing people who’d tried to raise him to be the same. Would they think they had failed in their jobs seeing the way he had turned out? He and Lily had a handle on the hard-working part, but would his parents be ashamed of him and the choices he had made? Would they be able to forgive him for tarnishing the Baldwin name?
Wyatt shook his head at all the unanswerable questions. He missed his parents too much to care about their likely disapproval of his choice to welcome Dakota into his life, to welcome a “savage” into his and his wife’s bedroom. He wanted his parents in his life in spite of all that, because it would ground him and remind him of where he had come from.
It saddened him that Little Wyatt had not been afforded the same opportunity before today. It angered him that his son had been denied such a basic right as knowing his father.
Wyatt paused in his pacing to glance at Lily and Dakota snuggled together in bed, beneath the covers. Outside, the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, providing him just enough light to distinguish the features of his wife and her lover.
Wyatt envied them the ability to sleep. Normally an early riser as were most homesteaders he knew, he was too excited about the prospect of seeing his son to stay asleep for more than even a few hours. He didn’t know how Lily and Dakota slept at all unless it was just sheer exhaustion and relief after their unburdening.
“Did you get any sleep at all?”
Wyatt closed his eyes at the sound of her husky-with-sleep voice, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the moment. “What are you doing awake?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“I’m too nervous to sleep.”
“You don’t want to be groggy when you meet your son.”
“Our son,” Wyatt whispered. The reality of their boy still hadn’t hit him and it probably wouldn’t until he was standing before the little boy, maybe not even then. He knew, however, that he would be far from groggy when the time came. “Does he know about me at all?”
“I told him that his father was a brave and good man who I loved very much.”
“Loved.”
“Wyatt…” Lily sighed as she got out of the bed and walked over to him where he stood at the window.
Wyatt felt her hesitation before she put a hand on his shoulder.
“You have to understand the mindset I was in when I was with the Kiowas.”
“I’m listening.” The words came out harsher than he wanted, but he’d be damned if he’d take them back.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I…I didn’t think you’d want me back after what happened to me…”
“If the village hadn’t been attacked, if you hadn’t lost Little Wyatt, you never would have come back to me, would you?”
Lily lowered her head and shrugged but said nothing.
Wyatt couldn’t let her response go at that. He put a finger under her chin and gently but firmly lifted her face until she looked at him. He almost regretted his action when he stared into her eyes. He thought he could drown in their glistening depths and would gladly have forfeited his soul just to have her look at him forever the way she looked at him then—as if he could save her. From the moment he’d met her he’d wanted to be her hero, her lover, her protector. When she’d agreed to marry him, he’d gotten his chance. When she’d disappeared, he’d thought all his chances and dreams had been stolen away forever.
She was back, though, and he wasn’t going to let her go away from him ever again if it was within his power to prevent it.
“Did you think I’d love you any less?” he rasped. “Or that I wouldn’t love you at all?”
She shrugged again. “I didn’t know.”
“Know this, Lilybelle. It doesn’t matter to me what happened to you or what you were forced to do to survive. I love you and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”
“Oh, Wyatt…”
He thumbed the tears that ran down her cheeks as she choked back a sob then took her face between both of his hands. Wyatt bent his head to kiss away the rest of her tears.
“I know you were confused and lost, probably desperate after…after the village was attacked. But I don’t ever want to be your last resort, Lily.”
“When I first came back, I felt like I had no choice,” she admitted. “But I realize now that coming back to you wasn’t my last resort. It was my choice. I realized that wherever you were was my home, no matter what had happened before.”
Wyatt smiled. “You realized correctly.” He bent his head again, this time to take her mouth with his. He slid the tip of his tongue past her parted lips then withdrew as she gasped and gently nipped her full lower lip.
“I love you, Wyatt.”
“I know.” He lowered his hand to her belly. “Do you think we all made a little brother or sister for Little Wyatt last night?”
“I hope so.”
Wyatt caught her stare, her eyes searching his. “What?”
“Would it bother you if…if the baby was a half-breed?”
Wyatt winced at the term. Before he had met Dakota he probably had used it as much as the next white man. However, it felt wrong now somehow. “Half-breed” was more appropriate to refer to an animal, but not a human and especially not a human of Dakota’s caliber, one who had taken care of Wyatt’s wife and child, Wyatt’s heart and soul, when Wyatt couldn’t. He may not have completely liked the way that Dakot
a had gone about taking care of Lily and Little Wyatt, but he had to respect the man for his efforts. “It wouldn’t bother me a lick. And the baby wouldn’t be a half-breed. He’d be ours—yours, mine, and Dakota’s.”
“I’m so glad you feel that way, Wyatt. I want us, all of us, to be a family.”
He nodded. “You know it won’t be easy.”
“What in life worth having ever is?”
He thought about the situation he found himself in with Lily and Dakota and realized moving forward with Little Wyatt would indeed be difficult. He realized, too, that wouldn’t change anything. Rather than detract from their relationship, Dakota’s presence only enhanced what Wyatt had with Lily. He reckoned the same would happen when Little Wyatt came home where he belonged, that his presence would only make things better, sweeter, make them all happier and whole.
“I really can’t wait to see him,” he said.
“I know.”
“You don’t sound excited.”
“I guess I don’t want to get my hopes up after all this time.”
“If Dakota says he is alive and well and that he’ll take us to him, then he will.”
“Wyatt is correct.”
Wyatt turned to see Dakota rising from the bed. He watched as Dakota donned his robe to cover his nakedness. He supposed they would all have to start getting used to the idea of covering up around the house what with a little one soon to be underfoot.
“I will get washed and dressed so that we can leave for the reservation.” Dakota headed past them both on his way out of the bedroom, his solemn tone emphasizing Wyatt and Lily’s nervousness and fear.
Lily caught him by the arm as he reached the threshold. “I forgive you,” she said.
Dakota’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, but he didn’t say anything as he nodded and continued out the door and down the hall to the water closet.
“He may not be able to say it to you, but I know that meant a lot to him.”
“What about you? Can you forgive me?”
Wyatt looked into her eyes, sensing the secrets inside her heart still left to be unearthed, but settling for the tranquility they now shared. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
“Oh, Wyatt…”
He heard the hitch in Lily’s voice, caught the look of panic in her eyes right before she buried her face against his chest, and he wondered if he had spoken too soon.
* * * *
They all washed, dressed, and left the house in silence, the hush hovering around them like an old overcoat as Wyatt and Lily followed behind Dakota in their horse and wagon while he rode horseback.
The quiet was consuming, reminding Lily of a funeral. She had been denied the opportunity to say good-bye to her parents since they had died in her absence, but she had been to enough funerals to understand this sort of overwhelming desolation, mental torture, and self-flagellation.
Lily was glad that the trip to Dakota’s reservation took a few hours. She was not so sure if she was ready to set eyes on the little boy she hadn’t seen in almost a year.
Her little boy lived.
As sure as she felt that Wyatt was finding it hard to believe he had a son, Lily found it equally hard to accept that their boy indeed lived and hadn’t perished with the rest of the tribe.
According to Dakota, there had been a handful of survivors from the village that had settled on the reservation, his grandfather Dyami and a couple of the women taking Little Wyatt in and raising him as their own in her absence.
She swallowed hard now wondering what she would say to her son when she saw him. How could she ask him to forgive her for leaving him for dead, for giving up on him?
What kind of mother was she anyway? She should have known that he was alive somewhere, somehow, shouldn’t she? Any good mother would have known, would have felt her child’s inner spirit and light and continued to look for him even when all hope seemed lost.
Maybe Dakota had done the right thing in keeping Little Wyatt from her. Maybe he’d known what Fate hadn’t—that she had not been ready to be a proper mother to her son.
She’d had a little more than four wondrous years to nurture, enjoy, and love him after his birth, true, and those had been a gift for which she had neither been prepared nor felt deserving after her assault. Why else, however, would the good Lord see fit to give her time with her and Wyatt’s son only to take him from her in the cruelest way possible?
Had He been punishing her for not telling Wyatt sooner, for keeping the knowledge of their boy from him as long as she had? Should she have told him sooner? If she had, he wouldn’t have left her home that day no matter how much she had insisted she was okay. Wyatt would have stayed because that was the type of man he was. He would have stayed and she wouldn’t have been left alone to be attacked and dragged from her home, left for dead in the middle of nowhere.
How different would all of their lives have been had she done things another way? How much easier? She couldn’t deny that things might have at least been easier for her and Wyatt, but like she had told him, who said anything worth having was easy?
No matter how awful things had been for her during and after the attack, she couldn’t bring herself to completely regret the way things had turned out, though.
If she hadn’t been attacked, after all, she never would have met Dakota. If she hadn’t been left for dead, there would have been no reason for him to save and protect her and her son. She never would have realized her capacity for forgiveness and the many facets of love. She never would have discovered that she could love two men without betraying herself or her marriage vows.
If she hadn’t been attacked, would she have met Dakota at all? Would he have come into her and Wyatt’s life some other way? Was their encounter destiny?
“You’ve been a mite quiet since we left,” Wyatt said as their wagon navigated over a particular rough patch of earth that bumped them in the air at least a couple of inches.
Lily was thankful for the rutted road as it gave her an excuse to gasp without her reaction looking too suspicious. Truth was she remained terrified about what she would find once they all arrived at the reservation. She couldn’t believe that a being who had been on this earth for such a short time meant so much to her, that his possible hatred and rejection would probably destroy her like almost losing him hadn’t.
Lily took a deep breath and turned to Wyatt for just the moment it took her to meet his gaze. She put her glance back on the road in front of them before responding. “I’m not sure how to feel.” She twisted the handkerchief she held in her hands, allowing several more beats of quiet between them before she whispered, “I’m scared, Wyatt.”
“I am, too.”
That someone as strong and solid as Wyatt could admit that made her feel a little better. “I don’t know what I’ll do if he…if he doesn’t like me.”
“Doesn’t like you? Why on God’s green earth wouldn’t he?”
Lily shrugged, unwilling to share her deepest concerns and shortcomings. She had already let her husband and son down in so many fundamental ways. She didn’t want to compound her sins.
“If he’s anything like his father,” Wyatt said, “absence has only made his heart grow fonder and he’ll fall in love with you all over again once he sees you.”
Lily swallowed hard over the lump in her throat, tried to put on a brave face. She did not want to disappoint anyone else in her life, especially not her little boy.
Wyatt let go of the reins with one hand and put his arm around her, hugging her close and kissing her forehead before grabbing the reins with both hands again. “We’re all going to be all right. Trust me.”
Lily’s face heated with a rush of shame. She knew she should have trusted her husband with the complete truth about what had happened to her, but she told herself she couldn’t, that her omission was for his own good.
Dakota doubled back on Gambit before Lily could answer Wyatt. “We are almost there. The reservation is just
over the next ridge.”
Lily’s heart sped at his words, pounding so hard she thought it would burst from her chest at any moment. She almost laughed at the imagery and thought how ironic it would be if she died before being reunited with her boy.
Would it be such a loss to him? Had he missed her as much as she had missed him? Would he mourn her as she had mistakenly mourned him all these months?
Lily shook herself from her brooding thoughts and focused on the landscape unfolding before them, wonder filling her.
At least fifty teepees of various sizes, colors, and designs dotted the surrounding grassland ahead. Among the buffalo-hide dwellings Lily noticed smoke rising up from the center of the encampment. It looked like they had arrived just in time for the midday meal.
As they neared, she could make out the distinctive sounds of children laughing. The sound filled her heart with so much nostalgia and hope, Lily thought she would come apart. Memories of her time with the Kiowas, how the tribe had eventually accepted and taken care of her and how they had doted on her son, swamped her.
The Kiowas, Dakota’s tribe, were a strong people, a proud people with a rich history and who had lived through many hardships, the least of which was losing their land and their home to the white man’s, her people’s, expansion into Indian Territory.
These were the people with whom her boy had grown up, the people who had been teaching him right from wrong, teaching him about life without his parents.
He was still so young with so much more to see and learn. Could he accept Lily and Wyatt in his life, as his new teachers and more? Would he want to?
Lily didn’t know what she would do if he rejected her.
She was so preoccupied with her morose thoughts she hadn’t realized that the horse and wagon had come to a stop.
Lily took a moment to glance about her and see the children of different ages and sizes surrounding her and Wyatt’s wagon, a soft murmur of curiosity rising up from their young ranks.
