Chieftain (Historical Romance) (10 page)

S
he purred
and stretched like a lazy cat. And she realized, with a small degree of surprise, that she was no longer dressed. She didn’t recall discarding her elegant ball gown, lacy underwear, shoes and stockings. But they lay on the floor by the bed and she wore only a nightgown.

Perhaps he had undressed her. If so, she would return the favor. It would be, she decided, a sensual delight to strip him bare.

“You
are
going to get me in trouble,” he smilingly accused, his voice low and with a dark resonance that sent chills up her spine.

“Perhaps,” she said with a teasing laugh, and, looking into his hypnotic silver eyes, added, “but it will be worth it, I promise you.”

“Then go ahead,” he urged, “get me in trouble. Do what you will to me.” And as he spoke, his dexterous fingers tugged at the delicate ribbon tied at her throat.

She lay on her back atop her soft feather bed. He sat on the edge of the mattress, leaning over her, his fierce eyes burning with an intense light that made her heart throb.

He was
still fully clothed. His dark evening jacket stretched across his wide shoulders, the silk cravat untied and hanging loose, white shirt open at the collar, exposing his bronzed throat.

Across the room, the fire in the grate was slowly dying, the low-burning flames casting deep shadows on the hard planes of his handsome face.

The yoke of her nightgown was now open. He brushed back both sides of the delicate fabric, lowered his face and placed a kiss in the sensitive hollow of her throat. She thought her heart would beat its way out of her chest when she felt his lips open and his sleek tongue lightly paint her flesh with searing liquid heat.

He lifted his head and looked at her. His pale eyes flashed in the shadows, like a hungry wolf’s. “Un-button my shirt,” he ordered. “Touch me. Feel my heart beating.”

Mesmerized, she lifted both hands and began unbuttoning his shirt. When it was open down his coppery chest, she pushed it apart and laid eager fingers on the hard band of muscle. His flesh was satiny smooth and incredibly hot to the touch. His heart beat heavily against her open palm.

“Let me feel your heart beating against mine,” he commanded as he roughly took hold of her upper arms and drew her into a sitting position facing him.

He swept her opened gown apart. She clasped his hard biceps and pressed her bared breasts against his naked chest.

“Like this?” she asked, and provocatively brushed her left breast back and forth against the solid wall of his chest.

Loving
the touch of his warm, bare flesh against her own, she inhaled deeply of his clean, unique scent and sighed with rising pleasure. After a few seconds she pulled back a little, looked into his eyes and said, “Oh, please. Kiss me. Kiss me now.”

Shanaco’s strong arms went around Maggie and his lips captured hers. Just as it had been that day at his cottage, the kiss was hot and invasive and incredibly stirring. Maggie responded with a passion that rivaled his, and when finally the prolonged kiss ended, she sagged weakly against him, gasping for breath and shaking with emotion.

She winced when Shanaco grabbed a handful of her flowing hair at the back of her head, yanked her face up and stared hungrily into her eyes. “I am,” he warned, “going to make love to you right here in this bed until you are mine and mine alone. If this is not what you want, tell me now.”

“It is what I want,” she replied breathlessly, captivated but mildly fearful of that elemental savagery that was surely so much a part of him.

His long fingers tangling tightly in her hair, he ground his hot mouth down on hers again and Maggie felt his heart pound against her breasts. She trembled. When he tore his lips from hers, she was again lying on her back. She held her breath when he laid his cheek against her naked breast and asked, his voice vibrating against her, “Are you afraid of me?”

“No, I’m not,” she whispered.

But she
shivered and her breath came out in a whoosh when he turned his face inward and kissed her left breast. Her eyes slid closed and she dug her fingers into the muscles along his wide shoulders. She murmured his name.

Shanaco’s mouth moved back up to hers and he kissed her trembling lips. He kept kissing her, over and over, and soon Maggie became aware of his lean fingers pulling at the long tail of her nightgown. She felt the soft fabric sliding up to her knees. Then higher. She stiffened slightly but made no attempt to make him stop.

Her weak arms lifted and wound tightly around his neck; her lips opened and moved beneath his as Maggie was carried away on a rising tide of passion. When Shanaco impatiently shoved the gown up to her thighs, she tore her lips from his and buried her face in his throat.

She shuddered when she felt his hand go beneath the bunched gown to touch her bare stomach. When his spread fingers began to slide possessively down her quivering belly, Maggie whispered, “Yes, oh yes.” Her breathing became shallow and labored and she was so hot, she felt as if she would burst into flame. “Oh, oh, oh…” She squirmed and thrust her pelvis forward.

“Shanaco, Shanaco, Shanaco…”

Calling his
name, Maggie awakened with a start.

Eyes opening wide, heart hammering, she lunged up in bed and looked anxiously around, expecting to see Shanaco. She swallowed hard. She saw that she’d kicked all the covers off. Worse, her long nightgown was wadded around her thighs and her bare legs were slightly parted. Maggie slammed her knees together and shoved her nightgown down.

Her face scarlet, her entire body perspiring, she sat there shaken and trembling. The dream had been so real. Too real. It was as if he had actually been in the room with her. She could feel his hot lips on hers, feel his warm hand on her stomach.

Never in her life had Maggie had an erotic dream. She was disturbed by the dream’s sexual content and intensity. Shocked at herself. The carnal dream had been so incredibly real, it had left her feeling drained. Yet at the same time, aroused. A feverish, almost painful yearning lingered.

She wondered if the shameful dream was a manifestation of an unconscious desire she harbored for the Comanche chieftain. No, of course not, she assured herself. Yet she was burning hot in the coldness of the room. So uncomfortably feverish, she had to check the strong urge to strip off the choking nightgown and toss it to the floor.

Heart pounding, she rose from the bed, crossed to the armless rocker and sat down. Her knees together, bare feet planted firmly on the floor, she hugged her arms across her breasts. She rocked back and forth, gritting her teeth, willing herself to calm down, to relax and forget the appalling dream. That’s all it had been, a dream. Just a dream. She was not to blame for what she had dreamed.

Nothing to
worry about. No one knew what she had dreamed. No one would ever know. It was only natural that such a graphic sexual dream about a particular person would leave her feeling flushed and uneasy. The effects would be gone within minutes and the dream soon forgotten.

Not so.

The fire in the grate had totally died and turned to cold ash before the night’s deepening chill drove Maggie back to the warmth of her bed.

And even then the dream was as vivid as ever.

There was a burning in the blood that Shanaco could not deny. Long after he’d briefly held her in his arms at the ball, he continued to think about her, to smell the perfumed hair, to feel the softness of her small hand in his, to hear her musical voice.

Shanaco harbored a carefully suppressed passion for the independent young woman with the flaming red hair and flashing blue eyes. Why, he didn’t know. But from the first moment he’d seen her running across the pasture with the wolfhound at her heels, he had wanted her. Desired her. Yearned to hold her in his arms.

Maggie Bankhead fascinated him, enchanted him, excited him. She was incredibly appealing, and not just because she was beautiful, but because she did not behave as other women. She was neither afraid of him nor attracted to him. She was not uneasy in his presence, never flinched when his eyes met hers. Had no qualms about scolding and lecturing him. Hadn’t hesitated to tell him that “she would do all the deciding when she wanted to be kissed.”

Shanaco
smiled at the recollection.

He lifted the glass of whiskey to his lips and took a long pull. He sat leaning comfortably back in the only upholstered chair at his secluded cabin. He stared into the dying fire. He had been sitting there alone since leaving the officers’ ball a couple of hours earlier.

His custom-cut evening jacket tossed aside, his white shirt open down his chest, leather shoes kicked off, Shanaco reflected on the events of the evening. The few fleeting minutes with Maggie had been enjoyable, even though she had spent all her time warning him to stay away from Lois Harkins.

Maggie was perceptive. And right. The commandant’s blond daughter worried him. Lois Harkins had made no bones about the fact that she wanted to make love to him. The voluptuous blonde had an overly developed body and underdeveloped morals. She had, with her father looking on, brazenly propositioned him on the dance floor. Had he given the nod, he would have her here right now. With no more than the snap of his fingers, she’d have quickly agreed to spend the night in his bed.

Shanaco
shrugged and took another drink of whiskey.

The woman he’d really like to have here with him was the fiery, flame-haired Maggie Bankhead. The thought of making love to her made his lower belly tighten and his groin stir. He wanted her. But he would never make any attempt to seduce her. Shanaco smiled sardonically.

He wouldn’t dare touch Lois Harkins because she would cause him too much trouble. He wouldn’t dare touch Maggie Bankhead because he would cause her too much trouble.

Shanaco shook his head and poured himself another shot of whiskey.

When the ball finally ended, Captain Daniel Wilde had, like the loyal aide-de-camp he was, escorted his commanding officer and the colonel’s daughter back to their residence.

Colonel Harkins was yawning sleepily by the time the trio went inside. “I hope you won’t think me rude, Captain,” said the colonel, “I’m utterly exhausted. It’s off to bed for me.”

“Good night, Colonel,” said Daniel Wilde.

“Lois will see you out,” said the colonel. “Or pour you a nightcap if you wish.” He kissed his daughter’s cheek. “Good night, dear.”

“’Night, Father,” she said.

Captain Wilde
waited barely long enough for the older man to get out of the room before he crossed to Lois, put a spread hand on her bare throat, urged her head back with his thumb and said, “I’ll go now and leave my door unlocked.” He grinned then and added, “I’ll expect you in five minutes.” He bent, started to kiss her.

Lois turned her head. “I’m not coming tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

She pushed on his chest, turned away from him. “Exactly what I said, Danny. I’m tired.”

Wilde’s jaw hardened. He took Lois’s arm and spun her to face him. “What are you trying to pull, Lois?”

She smiled sweetly, laid her hands on his chest and said innocently, “Nothing, Danny.” She slipped her arms up around his neck and playfully bit his chin. “I’m very sleepy, that’s all.”

“Well, all right, baby,” he said, finally softening. He kissed her, then lifted his head and smiled at her. “Lois, I don’t think you realize just how desirable you are.”

“Oh, Danny, you’re sweet.”

He pressed her close. “Listen, darling, I know you’re a friendly girl and that’s one of the things about you I find so charming. But, Lois, you’re not aware of just what you do to men.”

“I know what I do to you,” she teased.

“Dammit, listen to me. You need to watch your step around that sullen half-breed Comanche. You should never have danced with him tonight. He might well have gotten the wrong idea.”

“I
seriously doubt it,” she said, keeping a straight face despite the double meaning of her statement.

“All the same, I want you to stay the hell away from him, you hear? It’s not safe for you to have anything to do with him.”

“You’ll protect me, won’t you, Danny?” Lois took his arm, propelled him toward the door.

“That’s what I’m trying to do.”

“I know and I do appreciate it.” She opened the door. “Now, good night, Danny. Dream of me.”

“I will and you—” The door closed in his face before he could finish the sentence.

Lois leaned back against the door and sighed wearily. Daniel Wilde had become a terrible bore. She wanted something different. Someone different.

Shanaco.

T
he flag was
stirring in the breeze at the top of the pole when Shanaco crossed the parade ground at eight o’clock Monday morning. Soldiers were lined up outside the paymaster’s door. The troopers watched Shanaco as he passed. They made remarks meant for him to hear. He heard. But he paid no attention. He was accustomed to be stared at and talked about.

Shanaco was resented by the troops. A man who catered to no one, he offended the enlisted men and officers alike with his arrogance and pride. They wanted to see him humbled and put in his place. But he moved about the reservation and outlying village as if he were a feudal lord.

He drank in the back room of Jake’s, played poker with anyone who would sit down with him and generally caused a stir wherever he went. In other words, he behaved like a white man. And the white settlers and soldiers didn’t like it.

The one white man who didn’t resent him, the one who had befriended Shanaco from the start, was the Indian agent Double Jimmy. The two respected and genuinely liked each other. And, they had the same goal: to see to that the Indians were well fed, had blankets and warm clothing for the coming winter, and were as content as possible under the circumstances.

On this
blustery Monday morning Shanaco was scheduled for yet another meeting with Double Jimmy and Colonel Harkins. He was never really satisfied with the progress made in the lengthy councils. He was not convinced that the fort commandant was overly concerned with the welfare of the Indians. It was becoming increasingly evident that Colonel Harkins didn’t like Indians any more than the troops he commanded.

Skeptical of Harkins’s intentions, Shanaco had voiced his opinion to Double Jimmy. Ever the diplomat, Double Jimmy had assured Shanaco that Colonel Harkins cared about the Indians and could be trusted.

“You must understand, Shanaco,” Double Jimmy had reasoned, “the colonel lost many a good man, many a good soldier, fighting the Indians here in the West.”

“He’s not the only one who lost men,” Shanaco replied with a rapt, steady-eyed gaze. “And women.”

Aware that Shanaco’s parents had been slaughtered in a surprise raid during the long Red River campaign, Double Jimmy said, “I know, I know. There was much bloodshed on both sides. But the colonel is trying to do the right thing by your People, son. Give him a chance. You’ll see.”

Shanaco
looked up now and saw Double Jimmy standing on the sally port outside Colonel Harkins’s office. “’Morning, Chief,” Double Jimmy called out, a wide smile on his face.

“Good morning,” Shanaco replied, then stepped up onto the shaded porch and shook hands with the older man. “You doing all right?”

“No complaints whatsoever,” said the man who seemed to be eternally cheerful. “How about you?” Before Shanaco could reply, Double Jimmy said, “Say, I hear you attended the officers’ ball Saturday night.”

“I didn’t have much choice,” Shanaco said.

Double Jimmy laughed and slapped him on the back. “No, not really. But it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“Who told you I was there?”

“Who didn’t?” Double Jimmy said with a wink. “Maggie Bankhead, for one. I saw her a few minutes ago on the way to morning classes. Already old news, but I asked her how it went, what happened. She said she danced with you.”

Shanaco nodded. “She was very kind.”

“I’m not surprised. Maggie’s a sweetheart and she always…she is so…say, wait a minute, I have an idea! Maggie’s fixing supper for me tomorrow evening. Why don’t you come with me?”

“I don’t think so,” Shanaco declined.

As if he hadn’t spoken, Double Jimmy said, “Maggie will be pleased to have you join us, I know she will.” He laughed heartily then and warned, “Now, don’t expect a mouthwatering meal. I love Maggie like a daughter but she’s not much of a cook. Bless her heart, she tries, but…” Double Jimmy shook his head, shrugged his shoulders. “Maggie grew up in a house full of servants. Never had to turn a hand until she came out here.”

“She
seems to have adjusted well.”

“She sure has. She’s always enjoyed a challenge,” Double Jimmy said with frank adoration. “So say you’ll come for supper tomorrow evening.”

“Yes. I’ll come. Why not?”

“Good enough. Now, I guess we better get on inside and meet with the colonel.”

Three hours later, after much discussion and heated debate with Shanaco making demands and Colonel Harkins attempting to placate him, the meeting ended. Double Jimmy and Shanaco parted ways outside. Shanaco headed for the civilian village. Double Jimmy went directly to the fort’s one-room schoolhouse.

At straight up noon the bell rang and rowdy children poured out of the classroom. The last to leave, as usual, were Bright Feather and the aged Old Coyote. Maggie followed them out and watched as Pistol rose off his haunches and affectionately nudged Bright Feather. The little boy laughed and petted the wolfhound’s great head. Maggie smiled and her smile grew broader when she looked up and saw Double Jimmy.

“What a
pleasant surprise,” she said, stepping forward to kiss his cheek. “How did this morning’s meeting go?”

“I feel we made some real progress,” he said. “I’ll tell you about it on the way to your cottage.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m not going straight home. Katie Atwood sent word for me to come by her quarters. Said she has something important to tell me.”

“That’s fine. I have plenty of work to do myself. Need to inventory supplies at the agency warehouse. Been putting it off too long.”

Maggie arched an eyebrow. “You might consider letting your hired hands do it.”

“Nah, I better get on over there and help. At least supervise.”

“In that case, I have to run. I told Katie I’d be there as soon as classes ended.”

“Want me to walk you over?”

“No, Pistol’s a great escort. See you tomorrow evening?”

“I’ll be there.” Maggie nodded and turned to leave. Double Jimmy called after her, “Be okay if I bring a guest?”

“Certainly. Anytime. I’m planning on cooking my precious supply of fresh beef, so it’ll be a good time to bring someone.”

She hurried away without bothering to ask who the guest would be. She crossed the parade ground and made her way down Officers’ Row to Katie Atwood’s quarters. When Katie answered her knock, Maggie took one look at her and knew something was wrong.

“Dear
Lord in heaven, what is it, Katie? Are you sick again?”

“Oh, Maggie, you’re not going to believe it! We’re leaving Fort Sill!”

“No!” Maggie exclaimed.

“Blake got the orders this morning and came right home to tell me. He’s to report to Fort Richardson in Jacksboro, Texas, in two weeks.”

“Two weeks? That means you’ll be leaving right away!” Maggie said, frowning. “It can’t be true. It can’t.”

“It is. The fifteenth of November is our last day at Fort Sill.” Tears spilled down Katie’s cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” Maggie said, and put her arms around her friend. “I can’t help it,” Katie wept. “I’ll be so lonely down in Texas. I’ll miss you so.”

“And I you,” Maggie said. “But you’ll meet officers’ wives there. You’ll make friends.”

“It won’t be the same,” said Katie.

Maggie set Katie back, looked into her tear-filled eyes and said, “No, it won’t. But I’ll write to you regularly, tell you all the news.” Katie sniffed, nodded. “Now, cheer up and let’s make the most of the time we have left,” Maggie said.

Katie nodded and dashed the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Is it too cold out to fix a picnic lunch and walk up to Cache Creek?”

“No, it’s brisk, but the sun’s out and it’s a beautiful day. Let’s do it.”