Bonds, Parris Afton (24 page)

At the top of the rise, Anne reined in her horse
alongside Ezra's. Her steed had been a good one, a strong one that had carried her
easily through forests filled with tangled undergrowth and rocky passes where
few men had traveled. It had taken four days, and now that she was here,
looking down on Brant's cabin, she cravenly temporized.

"Perhaps he isn't there," she told Ezra.

Ezra grinned knowingly. "You haven't learned
much about the frontier if you can't read signs." He pointed to the thin,
faint ribbon of smoke that curled upward from the chimney.

"Are you sure you won't stay, Ezra? At least
for a day or so―until you've rested?"

"Nope. I don't like to horn in on reunions.
Besides, before I go to Austin, I've got a reunion myself I want to make―with
a little hellcat in San Antonio."

Anne's brows arched upward. "I had no idea you
had a sweetheart, Ezra."

"I didn't. But on my last trip to San Antonio I
was able to make Celia realize she needed a man my age to take her in
hand."

"Celia?" Anne smiled, happy for the scout.
"Then she's given up her adoration of Brant?"

"I sure hope so." He cocked his head at
her. "And you?"

"My adoration's just beginning―if he'll have
me."

"There's only one way to find out."

The horse danced nervously under Anne as Ezra
wheeled his own mount around and headed back down the rise toward the south and
San Antonio. Anne waited until he had topped the next hill and descended out of
sight before she kneed her horse forward. The nearer she got to the cabin, the
harder her heart pounded.

She dismounted and slowly approached the door. It
squeaked on its hinges when she pushed it open. After her eyes adjusted to the
darkness, she realized the cabin was empty. What if Brant had also ridden south
to San Antonio? But no, he was not careless. He would have banked the fire. And
there was a rabbit roasting on the spit.

She could look back now without the pain of the
memory of Colin and see how Brant had always been there when she needed him.
Her lips formed a smile when she recalled how Brant had arranged for Colin's
baggage to be scattered by the Indians when she had been about to run off with
Colin ...and pride at  Brant's courage when he had walked into Iron Eyes' camp
alone to claim her ...and above all else she felt an overwhelming amazement that
Brant had continued to love her despite the many times she had rejected that
love out of blind infatuation for a man who never existed except in her own
creation of her mind. She had endowed Colin with traits he had never possessed.

Fear caused her stomach to sink when she realized
that Brant might not feel the same after all that had transpired between them.
Would he―could he still want her?

Oh how she longed to feel those insistent lips
against her once more, to feel the strength of his arms enfolding her in his
love.

There was only one other place she knew to look.

She ran from the cabin and swung up on the horse,
digging her heels into his flanks. Her hair streamed out behind her, tossed by
the wind. Her blood pumped furiously, and her mind raced wildly with what she
would say to him. Any number of things, and none seemed appropriate.

In less than five minutes she was within sight of
the oak―and Brant. The horse reared on two legs as she jerked back
sharply on the reins. For eternal seconds she watched Brant as he worked. The
sunlight glanced off the axehead he swung, glistened off the sweat that coated
his muscled shoulders and arms.  He had started work on a house. For another
woman―or had he expected her?

He did not pause from his work nor look up, but she
knew he was aware of her presence. He was too much of an Indian not to have
detected it.

All her life she had tried to behave bravely, had
tried to follow the example set by her parents. And she would be no less brave
now. She would find out now if she had forfeited her one chance for true
happiness. Taking a deep breath to still the trembling in her limbs, she
dismounted and walked the distance that separated her from Brant. Only then did
he pause, leaning his hands on the axe's wooden shaft. His eyes, those
fathomless Indian eyes, swept over her, then returned to the center of her
face, especially her eyes, as if to read her thoughts. "You've decided what
it is you want?" It was more a statement than a question.

"Aye."

"There is something you have to know, Annie.
Twice I've kept you―against your will. But that isn't what I wanted to
say. I wanted to tell you―"

She came into his arms. "I already know. I was
foolish not to have known sooner. A man that keeps a woman with him―as
you have me―must love her. And I know that where you are is where I want to
be."