Comanche Heart (30 page)

“You’ll never regret this, Amy. Never.”

He swept her up into his arms and carried her to his horse. Swinging her into the saddle, he arranged her skirts around her, then mounted behind her, encircling her waist with his arm. She threw a dread-filled glance toward the trees but didn’t ask his intentions. He knew the silence didn’t come easily for her.

He drew her snugly against him and bent his head to hers. The brim of his hat cut the wind. “Do you remember my saying that you used to have Comanche heart?”

She nodded, saying nothing. Swift brushed his lips along her temple. “You still have Comanche heart, Amy. More so, I think, than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“No,” she said in a hollow voice. “Not anymore.”

Tears turned to ice on his cheeks. “Oh, yes. Do you think courage means being fearless? Or daring? Courage, real courage, is taking three steps when it terrifies you.”

 

Firelight played upon their faces. Stretched out on the rug before the hearth, Swift held Amy in the crook of his body, one arm at her waist, a hand splayed over her midriff, his fingertips inches below her breasts. The silence between them made room for inconsequential sound, the wind whistling along the eaves of her little house, the tree limb outside her bedroom window squeaking forlornly on the glass, their hearts beating, their lungs drawing breath, the clock ticking away the minutes of their future, which yawned before them now, an unfulfilled promise.

Swift ran his fingers over the cloth of her dress, touching the tiny buttons that ran so primly to her high collar. She didn’t flinch away, and that pleased him. It also forestalled him from touching anything other than the buttons.

“I’m going to have to go see Hunter, tell him I’m not leaving,” he whispered.

She stirred slightly. Swift guessed she was probably drained after last night and this morning, that numbness had set in. He had stayed; evidently that had become her one reality, the only thing she could deal with, for now. This time together, with the firelight and the silence, was their lull before the storm. She had to realize he wanted more, that he would eventually demand more, but for now he allowed her the moment.

Memories drifted through Swift’s mind. He sensed that she remembered, too. With the firelight and the wind outside, it was easy to believe the walls around them were leather, that the whistling wind came from the north, sweeping across grassy plains. Children, huddled by an evening fire, bellies full, limbs tired and relaxed from running all day under an endless summer sky, laughing and playing. It was that long-ago bond of friendship, of trust, that held them together now. Such a precious gift, that friendship, and they had nearly lost it.

Swift realized that he had to reach back through the years and recapture more than just memories, that somehow he had to bring laughter and magic back into their relationship. For Amy’s sake. And maybe for his own.

He sat up slowly, careful in his every movement, so as not to startle her. Drawing her up before him, he studied her blue eyes. Mostly she looked bewildered and wary, as if she weren’t quite sure how she had come to this pass and was dreading what came next. Reading those emotions, Swift knew how dearly she must love him. She had thrown caution aside to keep him here, and Amy had far more reason than most people to be cautious.

Sitting on her heels, her skirts fanned around them, she looked very like the child she had once been. He ran a finger along the shadowy contour of her cheek, uncertain what to say.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?”

Her gaze fell to his mouth. She clearly expected him to make a move, and she was braced. He sighed and trailed his hand to her braid, slowly pulling the combs, unwinding the heavy length of gold, loosening it into a shimmering curtain with his fingertips. His gut contracted as the strands slid across his arm, warm and silken, as he imagined her skin. To finally have inalienable rights and not exercise them was sheer torture.

“Someday you’re going to come to me wearing nothing but your beautiful hair,” he whispered huskily.

A tiny muscle at the corner of her mouth twitched as he lifted a palm of the gold ripples and touched them to his cheek.

“I promised to be yours, Swift. That’s all I promised. Don’t expect more than I can give.”

“That’s just it, Amy. I don’t want what you can’t give.”

Her eyes darkened. “Wh-what are you saying?”

Swift sighed. He wasn’t sure what the hell he was saying. “I just don’t want you to be frightened.”

“I can’t help that.”

“But I can. Do you really believe I would rape you?” He caught her chin so she couldn’t look away. “Do you?”

She regarded him like a trembling rabbit might a hungry hawk. He realized that a loving physical relationship was beyond her scope and totally at odds with her memories. She saw sex as one-sided, a dirty thing that men demanded and women were forced to render.

Her voice rang thin and thready, like an off-key note on a reed flute. “But I—there’s no question of that now.”

That fact clearly terrified her. Swift nearly smiled, not because he found her fear amusing, but because he knew how unnecessary it was. If Texas hadn’t been so far away, he would have paid a call on Henry Masters.

Forcing away his anger, Swift studied her small face. “Do you know what I want more than anything? I want to laugh with you—like we used to.”

Her eyes clouded with memories. “We did laugh a lot, didn’t we? I think—” She broke off and studied him, her expression melancholy. “Do you know that you were my one and only best friend? I never had another, growing up so far away from neighbors as I did. Sometimes, while I was still on the farm in Texas, when I grew lonely, I’d sit under the pecan tree and pretend you were there with me.”

An ache crawled up his throat. “I wish I had been.”

“I’d remember things that we did together.” She smiled slightly, her eyes shimmering up at him. “It was almost as good as actually doing them again. Or I’d tell you my troubles and imagine what you’d say. You gave me some very good advice.”

“What did I tell you?”

“To look at the horizon.” Tears filled her eyes. “You’d say, ‘Look into tomorrow, Amy. Yesterday is over.’ And I’d find the courage to go on, just one more day, because tomorrow might be the day you’d come for me.” She sighed and lifted her hands in a little shrug. “I couldn’t give up, you see, because tomorrow was only one night away.”

It pained Swift to think what troubles she might have had and that he hadn’t been there to do anything about them. Perhaps someday she would share those experiences with him and purge herself. He knew how it felt to hang on for just one more day. He also knew how bad things had to be for a person to live beyond the present, his only hope an elusive tomorrow that never came.

“We have a second chance, you and I,” he whispered. “A chance to be best friends again.”

“We’re no longer children,” she reminded him. “We can’t go back.”

“Can’t we? That’s what I want—what we used to have. Making love together will just happen, when it feels right.”

She drew herself up, lifting her chin a notch. “Swift, I have to tell you that I don’t believe it’ll ever feel right to me. You have to understand that.”

Appreciating her honesty, knowing how difficult it must be for her to dispense with subterfuge, especially when she risked so much, he said, “I’ll know when the time is right. It isn’t now. So relax and just enjoy being with me.”

“But—” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, worrying it for a moment. “Don’t you see? I can’t relax when I know that—that it might happen.”

“Then I’ll warn you first. How’s that sound?”

“You’ll warn me?”

“Yes. And until I do, there’s nothing to worry about. So there’s no need to feel frightened if I touch you or kiss you.”

A glimmer of hope shone in her eyes, along with a great deal of doubt. “You promise?”

Swift had a feeling this was a vow he might have to repeat again and again until she began to believe him. “I swear it, Amy.”

Chapter 15

THAT EVENING, THE WOLFS HAD A HUGE SUNDAY dinner in celebration of Swift’s decision to stay. Amy attended, as she always had their Sunday meal before Swift’s arrival in Wolf’s Landing. And for the first time since his coming she could be herself, embraced by those she loved, laughing and talking and teasing. Acutely aware of how his presence there had stripped her already lonely life, robbing her of her family and their support, Swift felt his throat tightening more than once.

Toward the end of the meal, Amy surprised even Swift when she suddenly stood and said she had an announcement to make. Everyone looked up at her. As she met Swift’s gaze across the table, her cheeks turned a shy pink, her eyes a brilliant blue. She clearly had reservations about whatever it was she planned to say. His body drew taut. Before she spoke, he guessed her intent, and he could scarcely believe she had worked up the courage to take such an irrevocable step so quickly.

“I know Swift may not tell you this, out of regard for me,” she said in a shaky little voice. She swallowed, looking nervous. “After all the fuss I’ve made since his arrival here, I think it’s only fair I tell you that I renewed my betrothal promises to him today.”

Silence descended, a rigid, breathless silence, as if everyone at the table had frozen in place. The muscles in Amy’s thighs knotted. She pressed a hand to her skirt. There, she had said it. No turning back now. Calling on all her courage, she looked into Swift’s eyes. He looked like a man who had just drawn four aces in a high-stakes poker game.

After a long while Hunter said, “I hope the sun shines upon you both.”

With a little cry, Loretta leaped from her chair and gave Amy a heartfelt hug. “I knew it would work out. I knew it.”

Another wave of uncertainty rushed Amy as she returned Loretta’s embrace. Nothing had been worked out as yet. She could feel Swift’s gaze on her. She wondered what he was thinking, why he didn’t speak, why he was smiling that way.

“So you’re going to be married?” Indigo piped up with childish enthusiasm. “Oh, that’s grand! I think we should have a big party to celebrate. Maybe Brandon Marshall will come.” She fastened blue eyes on Loretta. “May I invite him, Ma?”

Pulling away from Amy, Loretta threw her daughter a flustered look. “Let’s get the party planned first, Indigo. Then we’ll discuss invitations.”

Swift held up a hand. “There’ll be no party.” His voice rang with determination. “Not for a while, anyway.”

“Whyever not?” Loretta asked.

Swift’s left eyebrow rose a fraction. “Because I don’t want anyone beyond these walls knowing until we decide we’re ready.”

Hunter broke in. “That isn’t our way, Swift. Betrothals are always announced publicly.”

“It’s my way.” Swift leaned back in his chair and curled one hand around his coffee mug. His gaze, dark and unreadable, caught Amy’s. “We have a lot of catching up to do. Getting married soon is out of the question.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a long engagement,” Loretta assured him. “What can it hurt if you make an official announcement?”

Swift turned his gaze on Amy again, his mouth tipping in another mysterious smile. “Amy’s job is very important to her. I’d like for her to be able to keep it.”

Amy blinked, trying to make sense of what he had said, but before she could assimilate it, Loretta cried, “Why would an announcement about your engagement jeopardize her job?”

Once again, Swift seemed to have eyes only for Amy. “I’m not exactly the most popular person in Wolf’s Landing. If tongues started wagging . . . well, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what might happen. I don’t want to take that chance. Holding off on telling everyone will give people an opportunity to know me better. Maybe then it won’t matter if their schoolteacher marries an ex-gunslinger.”

“But tongues are bound to wag even worse if people don’t know you’re engaged,” Loretta argued.

“Not if we’re careful about being seen together too much. We’ve been fairly successful at that so far.”

Swift rocked back in his chair, his shoulders relaxed, one arm crooked over the chair back, a hand resting on his thigh. Amy could almost feel the warmth of those strong fingers splayed beneath her breasts, the strength of his arm around her.

“If you’re going to be married, Aunt Amy won’t need a job,” Chase inserted. “She’ll stay home and cook and take care of kids.”

“Who says?” Still balancing the chair on its back legs, Swift turned his head toward the boy. “Why does she have to give up everything to be married?”

“Yeah, Chase, how come?” Indigo demanded. “Women can do other things besides keep house and wash clothes.”

Chase rolled his eyes.

Laughing, Swift held up a hand. “I didn’t mean to start a war here. It’s just that the white way of doing things doesn’t sound fair to me. In fact, now that I can write my name, I’m going to sign a paper that says Amy’s house is her house, and that her money is hers, too.”

Amy’s heart soared. So touched it was all she could do not to cry, she clamped a hand to her bodice. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.”

“You’re going to sign away rights to my house and wages?”

“That’s outlandish!” Loretta cried. “What wife would want a division of property?”

“A wife who needs to feel independent.” Swift slanted Hunter an amused glance. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Hunter shrugged. “It is a good way, the way of the People. We signed no paper, but a woman’s property was her own.”

“Then it’s settled. Right, Amy?” Swift watched his bride to be, waiting patiently for her to speak. When she simply stood there, staring at him, he said, “Well, do you agree or not?”

Amy tried to speak and couldn’t. Finally she simply nodded. Swift’s mouth tipped in a slow grin. For an endless moment, Amy forgot everyone else in the room. There was only Swift and the tenderness she saw in his dark eyes.