Another Chance (37 page)

"I have little control over the colonists," Wolf said, bitterness coloring his words
.

She dropped her hands and prepared to leave
. "Perhaps Jeremiah could help,” Sarah said, annoyed with Wolf for putting up roadblocks.

He grabbed her arms
. "Why do you suggest him?"

The severe look Wolf gave her almost frightened her
. Why would he respond so strongly and negatively at her suggestion? After all, he said he could not help, so they must try elsewhere. As a member of the Continental Army, Jeremiah was the logical one to ask. Was Wolf just too proud to seek help? Unable to understand his quick change, but unwilling to allow Quick Rabbit to suffer for Wolf's unwarranted behavior, Sarah pressed on. "Since Jeremiah's with the military, he is the obvious choice."

"Oh
." Again, his demeanor altered. He loosened his hold, while his fingers massaged her biceps with a casual intimacy. "Mayhap, he can."

Sarah
wished she understood these sudden, sharp transformations. Should she question him?  Another glance at his face convinced her to tackle that problem later. "Will thee send word tonight?"

"Two of my braves returned today from hunting
. When they have rested, I will send Sharp Wind to Jeremiah."

She threw her arms around his neck, reached up, and pressed her lips to his
.

He crushed her to him and deepened the kiss
.

Warmth and desire spread out from the center of her being
.
Will I ever get enough of this man? Will I ever truly understand him?
For the moment, she pushed all negative thoughts aside, wanting only to fulfill the yearning building deep within her.

She held his head in her hands as she eased her tongue inside his mouth
. Her whole body craved fulfillment. "Where can we go?" she whispered in his ear then looked at him. His face showed the passion and need that had earlier excited her.

After a short hesitation, his
dark eyes flashed; he took her hand. "Come."

They turned away from the plantation, crossed over the small creek where earlier
Sarah had spied Little Turtle practicing with his knife, and kept walking into a dense woods.

"Not much farther," he glanced back to assure her
.

I will follow thee anywhere
, she said silently. "Fine." Sarah smiled at him.

He squeezed her fingers, his features brightening even more
.

Minutes later, a very small cabin surrounded by trees and almost covered by undergrowth welcomed them
. Sarah stopped. "Who lives here?"

"No one
."

She sent him a quizzical look
.

"White Owl built this when he first came to Long Meadow fifty years ago
. Even now, when he wishes to escape from his everyday routine or perhaps remember, he comes and stays here." Wolf walked to the door, tugging Sarah gently.

"Will he mind if we use it?"

Pushing open the door, Wolf said, "No." He stepped aside so Sarah might enter.

A single room constructed of stripped logs, with a dark, wooden-beamed ceiling, greeted her
. A stone hearth, with logs stacked and ready for a fire, graced the far wall. Off to the right, a table stood, on top, a corked water jar, and underneath a bench. On the left side, a bed, small, yet inviting waited.

Going to the mantle, Wolf lit the candle
. Next, he applied his flint to the faggots of wood in the fireplace. While he worked, Sarah pulled the latch on the door closed, giving them the privacy she craved.

She walked to the bed
. Deerskins covered the mattress. Bending, she lifted the fur and shook it.

Wolf laughed
. "Bowl Woman comes once a week to clean and check supplies." He gestured to a small, closed cupboard between the table and the hearth that Sarah had not previously noticed. "She makes sure the cabin is always ready."

A light glowed from the newly lit fireplace, overwhelming the candlelight
. Wolf rose and extinguished the slender flame.

Sarah
undressed quickly, but not shyly. He did the same. The entire time, she looked directly at him. Never did his gaze shift from hers. As they discarded their clothes, she admired him. His strong features accented his oval face. The firelight revealed a compassionate, handsome man and played on his arms and shoulders, defining the muscles of his upper body. His broad chest, with a sharp delineation between his ribs and his flat stomach, caused her belly to ache with desire. Slender hips supported strong, lean legs and emphasized his manhood, now standing erect and eager, waiting for her. These thoughts quickened her craving.

He stepped closer
. She stood her ground, anxious and eager. When he reached her side, he picked her up and placed her on the bed before joining her. Within moments, the rope springs sang their song, adding their melody to Sarah's passion. His fingers skimmed over her body, touching, caressing, and fondling each portion of her body until each fiber of her being cried out for release. "I love thee," she said, and knew the words to be true.

He smiled and retraced his trail, skimming across her shoulder, descended her arm to her hip, down her leg; only this time, he used his tongue and lips
. When he reached her toes, he kissed them one by one before beginning his ascent.

She writhed in joyful agony
. Her breath came in short, almost painful pants. "Kiss me."

"Patience
. I will leave none of you untouched."

His lips captured hers
. His tongue tormented the inside of her sensitized mouth. As she drank him in, he broke contact with her. "Don't leave," she murmured.

He chuckled
. "That I will never do." His lightly bristled chin scrapped down her throat, to her breastbone, then to her navel.

She lifted her hips, willing him to take her
. A second later, he claimed the seed of her pleasure. Her fingers grasped his shoulders, as a shower of shooting stars ignited her passion. "Wolf." Her body shook, but before she could fall back to earth, he entered her and all the lights of heaven shone. They rode across the sky together. An instant later, she shivered violently, and he collapsed on her chest.

His seed had spilled inside her, and although she wore no protection
, had never used any with him, she did not care. Instead, she flexed her muscles, unwilling to allow any part of him to escape.

Supporting himself with his hands and arms, Wolf eased his chest off
Sarah's body, but stayed inside her. "How beautiful you are."

She touched his cheek with her fingertips and smiled at him
. As she caressed his smooth, firm skin, she remembered her promise to tell him the truth about herself. Before they left the cabin, she must confess her secret. A sense of fear invaded her. What if her words turned him away from her?  She could not bear that to happen. "Promise me thee will not leave me. Please?"

"I will never part from you
." He kissed her damp forehead.

She rubbed his smooth scalp with the palm of her hand
. "Never has my body responded as it has to thee. I do love thee."

Her words inflamed him, and he captured her mouth with his
. When at last, he freed her, he said, "I have fought against my emotions, but I surrender myself to you." Lightly, he touched his lips to hers. Then he snuggled next to her.

Although content within his arms, her conscience tweaked her
. She had yet to tell him about her other life. Sighing, she said, "Wolf, I must talk to thee …"

"Later we have the rest of the afternoon and all evening to speak
." His fingers traced a pattern across her cheek and down to her chin.

When he moved, he broke their intimate connection
. She experienced a sense of loss, further increased by him not telling her that he loved her. Since he had not, perhaps, it was not necessary to share her secret with him. As soon as these thoughts entered her mind, she dismissed them. She must end her deception.

Shifting in his arms,
Sarah faced him. "These words have waited too long; I must not keep them from thee any longer." She brushed her fingernail across his chest, hoping that touching him would ease the confusion and pain her words might bring him.

Catching her hand with his, he kissed each finger
. "Can you not delay until after we have made love again?"

Chuckling, she said, "No
. We have shared much, but what I have not revealed may change everything that has happened between us." Even now, part of her wanted to keep her secret, while her conscience pressed her to be honest with this man with whom she had shared so much. She averted her eyes as she spoke, fearing what she might see in his. Gathering courage, she faced him; how he received her news was important to their future relationship. She would watch his eyes for every nuance.

Since her arrival at Long Meadow, she had wondered what his reaction would be to this complicated revelation
. Soon, she would know.

He saw her features become very serious
. "Speak, and I will listen."

She tried to sit up, but he ducked her shoulder beneath his arm
. "Stay close to me while you talk." Placing her hand on his chest, he covered hers with his and squeezed gently.

"I am not from thy century
." She stared at him.

He tensed,
but kept his face neutral, but not without difficulty. "What did you say?"

"I am not from thy century," she repeated, very slowly
.

Although she had repeated her statement, his mind refused to comprehend her words
. Tilting her chin, he surveyed her face carefully, "I don't understand."
And I'm not sure I wish to.

"Neither do I," she said
. Her expression shouted for him to listen and believe, while her voice whispered each sound.

Swallowing, he said,
"Tell me more." Although truthfully he wished Sarah had never begun this conversation.

"Remember the first time we met at the inn?"

He nodded, recalling the spirited, appealing Quaker, so reluctant to let him into the tavern.

"That was also my
first
day in this time period."

Her words made no sense
. He remained quiet, hoping they soon would and that the uneasiness building in his belly would be for naught.

"Somehow, I went to sleep in the 21st Century and woke up in the 18th
."

He almost laughed at her ludicrous statement, but feeling her tense in his arms, replaced his impulse with a quizzical glance
.

"I know this is hard to believe,
just trust me." She searched his face, waiting for him to show his doubt.

We cannot be having this conversation
,
he thought. His body and his expression remained under his control, but never before had it been as hard to do so.

"I was born almost two hundred years in the future," she murmured
.

He fought the shock waves building inside him
. She had said what he had thought
. Is she a witch? Has a spirit possessed her?
He wanted to ask, yet knew he would not.
What can I say?

"Even after several weeks, I find the experience impossible to believe
. Yet I ask thee to accept my words."

He detected in her voice deep concern possibly fear at his response
.

"The only other explanation is that thee and all of those around us are a dream
." Her gaze never shifted from his face.

"I can assure you," he said softly, grateful to be able to respond truthfully, "I am much too real to be a figment of your imagination
." He touched her cheek.

"I know this is impossible to believe
. Wait, I have proof." She rolled over him and started to rise.

"Where are you going?"

"To get something to show thee." She rummaged through her clothes, found her pocket, and reached inside. Clutching something in her fist, she hurried back to the pallet, smiling with pleasure.

Wolf slid over and gestured for her to join him
.

Sarah
sat on the side of the bed and opened her hand. "This is a Swiss army knife. Here, thee can open it."

He stared at the red case
. "Was material is this?"

"Plastic
."

"Plastic?" he looked at her
.

"Plastic
. It's made from oil."

"Oil?
Like oil from sunflowers?" he questioned.

"This oil comes from the ground
."

"Oh?"
Wolf glanced from Sarah to the knife holder and back again.