MM02 - Until Morning Comes (8 page)

“And you.” Jo put one fingertip on his shoulder bone and raked it down his smooth bare chest.

When her finger met the resistance of his belt buckle, she traced the path back upward.

He caught her hand, pressing it flat against his skin. “You are so fair.”

She kneaded her fingers in his warm flesh and closed her eyes. “Sometimes I think you must be a dream, Gray Wolf.”

“Dreams can't do this.” He kissed her. It was a joining of immense tenderness, and it took great restraint on his part. From the first day he'd met her, from the moment Jo Beth had followed him into the moonlight, he'd wanted her—here in his tepee, here in his arms. She was destined to be here, his gift from a capricious Fate. She belonged. She was his. And he would handle her the way he handled all precious gifts—with great care.

He lifted his head and gazed deeply into her eyes. “I want you here with me through the night.”

“I’ll stay until morning comes; then I must go.”

“It will be time enough.”

Still gazing into her eyes, he began to unbutton her blouse. She stood very still, watching the pleasure in his face as the blouse parted. He removed the blouse, folded it neatly, and placed it on a full duffel bag. He took the same care with the rest of her garments, handling them almost with reverence.

And when she stood before him, an alabaster carving save for the soft blush on her cheeks, he came to her. His hands and lips were poetry as they moved over her. She closed her eyes. The beauty of his touch filled her with fire until she was melting, her blood flowing richly through a body that was liquid and burning.

Suddenly she felt his hands leave her. There was a soft rustling in the tepee. Slowly, ever so slowly, she opened her eyes. “Colter?”

He was standing beside her, nude except for the bright Indian blanket draped over his shoulders. His eyes gleamed in a face gone tight with passion. He stretched out one arm and drew her to him. The heavy blanket fell around her.

They stood facing each other, shrouded in their bright cocoon. Her arms slid around his shoulders. He lifted her up and they became one.

A shaft of light pierced the velvety darkness, shining down on the two who loved. The blanket covered them, holding the heat, doubling the fire of their passion. Jo Beth clung to his shoulders, and Colter began to murmur in the musical language of his ancestors.

He lay down with her, the blanket spread underneath them. The rhythm of his Apache song increased with the rhythm of his body.

Jo Beth was carried to a place she'd never been, a bright and shining place, filled with light, rich with color, burning with the flames of a thousand stars. She climbed up, higher and higher. Earth Mother reaching for the Father Sky. The sky came down, bold, full of thunder and lightning. Earth trembled beneath it. Lightning seared, splitting the earth, burning through its core. The earth rocked with the assault; then slowly its fertile center opened to receive the life-giving rains of the sky.

Still joined, Jo Beth and Colter lay together on the blanket.

“What is that beautiful language you spoke?”

“Athabascan. The language of my people.”

“Teach me.” She traced her hands over his face.

“The language?” His smile was teasing.

“Whatever.”

He sat up, taking her with him. Kneeling beside her, he taught her the words of simple courtesy, “please” and “thank you.” He taught her words for greetings and partings.

“I need you, Yellow Bird.”

“How do you say that?”

His eyes became hooded. “This is not a language lesson.”

He reached for her. His hands were dark on her shoulders. He didn't bother with words; he didn't have to. His silence was more eloquent than a two-hour oration.

Her body went languid as he positioned her. He came to her kneeling. And the journey started all over again.

It was a journey that lasted through the night. And just before dawn pinked the sky, he dressed her and carried her from his tepee. The stallion neighed a soft greeting.

Colter put Jo Beth on the horse and mounted behind her. It was a different journey they made this time, a journey filled with the nostalgia of parting. Neither of them spoke until they were within sight of her cabin.

Leaning close to her ear, Colter whispered, “I’ll come for you again tonight.”

“Yes.”

“Listen for my signal.”

Then he lifted her off the stallion and watched until she had entered the cabin. She stood just inside the door, listening to the sound of hoof-beats until they faded in the distance.

o0o

Jo Beth had slept only three hours when her mother came to her bedroom door.

“I thought I'd better wake you, Jo Beth. You don't usually sleep this late.”

“I guess I'm just tired from all the desert photography.”

She hated lying. As she got out of bed she thought briefly about confiding in her mother. Would Sara understand the need, the passion that had driven her to Colter's bed? Would she remember what it was like to want a man so badly that he filled her thoughts every waking moment?

Jo Beth didn't know. Nor did she know how she would explain to Sara that Colter was more than an interlude, more than a desert affair, that he had toppled her beliefs and threatened her lifestyle in a way that no man ever had.

Instead of confiding, she smiled. “What would I do without the two of you taking care of me the way you do?” She reached for her robe. “Thanks, Mom.”

Sara eyed her keenly. “Jo Beth, we both know who's the caretaker around here.” She crossed the room and put her arm around her daughter's shoulders. “Honey, I don't want you sacrificing your life for us. We'll manage just fine.”

“I know that, Mom. And I won't.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.” Her fingers were crossed behind her back when she said it.

Jo Beth somehow managed to get her equipment loaded and out to a place where the giant saguaro cactus grew in abundance. For once, Silas was content to sit on the porch and read a book. It renewed her hope.

Alone in the desert, Jo Beth thought about Colter. Forget the sparks. He'd gone so far beyond sparks that he was setting dynamite next to her heart. She would have been thrilled to learn that love was not an obsolete art, except for one thing—her parents.

She had two brothers to share the responsibility, but being a daughter was different. She felt a need to personally oversee their care. Rick had hired full-time help, of course. And they were good. There was no doubt about that. Rick's wife, Martha Ann, was more than willing to let Silas and Sara stay with them, but she had three rowdy boys who were more than a handful, all the same age, triplets. And she was pregnant again. Jo Beth couldn't ask her to take on more responsibility.

There was her brother, Andrew, of course, but he hardly had room for himself and his bird dogs at his little cabin in Boguefala Bottom. Anyhow, Andrew wasn't exactly the stabilizing influence Silas needed. He'd probably have Silas riding wild horses and chasing wild women.

Jo Beth wrapped up her day's work and headed back to the cabin. There was only one thing to do—break off with Colter before it was too late.

o0o

She didn't wait for the night; she drove straight to his camp. He came to the opening of his tepee. Jo Beth fought the urge to run straight to his arms, but she knew that if she went into that tepee, she wouldn't have the willpower to leave.

Hanging one arm over the side of the Jeep, she called, “I need to talk to you. Colter.”

He walked toward her, his moccasins moving silently in the dust and his bare chest gleaming in the late-afternoon sun. He didn't speak until he was standing beside her Jeep.

“I'm listening, Jo Beth.” He put one hand on her arm.

“Don't.” She pulled her arm away. His face gave away nothing, neither surprise nor anger nor hurt. “I can't say what I have to say if you're touching me.”

“Not touching you is pain, Yellow Bird.”

“For me, too.” She looked at him standing beside her Jeep and was sorely tempted to change the nature of her visit. “I've been doing some thinking today, out in the desert by myself.”

“It sounds serious.”

“It is. First I want you to know that you've made me change my mind about falling in love.”

He merely smiled, waiting.

“If there was ever a man I could fall in love with, Colter, it's you. I want to thank you for that.”

“I liked the way you thanked me in the porch swing.”

“So did I, but you don't have a porch swing.” She tried to keep her voice teasing, but the tears kept showing through. Her throat was scratchy with emotion.

“Jo Beth, tell me what's wrong.”

“You always know, don't you?”

“Only because it's you.” He propped his arm on the Jeep and leaned toward her. “Tell me, Yellow Bird.”

“This is not going to work.” She made a sweeping gesture toward his tepee. “I can't turn my back on my responsibilities and ride off into the sunset with you... as much as I'd like to.”

“There is never a problem that can't be solved with two good minds working together. We can work it out, Jo Beth.”

“No. It's best this way—a quick, clean break.” She turned the key, and the Jeep's engine roared to life.

“Jo Beth...”

“Don't come for me tonight, Colter.” She stepped on the gas, and he jumped out of the way. The Jeep's tires stirred the dust as she backed quickly out of his camp and turned toward her cabin. She never looked back.

o0o

It was midnight when she heard the call of the turtledove.

She lay in her bed, willing him to go away. The call sounded once more. She balled her hands into fists and rammed them against her mouth to keep from crying out.

From the darkness came the third call, closer this time. The sound pierced her heart. She threw back the covers and ran from her bed, trailing bedspread and bed sheets across the wooden floor in her haste. She didn't even stop to think about clothes. All she knew was that she had to go to Colter.

He was waiting beside the porch when she came out. He didn't go directly to her but sat on his stallion, watching as she stood in the doorway, the moonlight shining through her filmy gown and gilding her with silver.

She lingered, waiting. He held out one hand, and she ran to him. One arm swung out and pulled her onto the stallion, then they raced away into the night.

She was aware of thundering hooves and a rhythmic rocking motion. Colter was an expert horseman. She leaned against him with complete trust. The rhythm changed and the stallion slowed down, almost to a halt.

“Turn, Jo Beth. Put your arm around my neck.”

Automatically she obeyed. Colter lifted her and swung her around, astride his lap. She gasped. Her gown settled down around them, and Colter urged the stallion forward once more.

They rode through the night. With one arm around Jo Beth's waist and the other on the stallion's halter, Colter guided them both. The tepee rose up, large in the warm, dark night. And still they rode. All the rhythms of the earth seemed concentrated in the three of them—the stallion, the wild Gray Wolf, and his pretty Yellow Bird.

When they reached the stream in the foothills of the mountains, Colter brought them to a halt. Jo Beth leaned her head against his shoulder.

“I couldn't stay away, Jo Beth.”

“And I couldn't refuse to come.”

He brushed her damp hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. “We can work everything out.”

He helped her from the stallion. She stood beside the stream, listening to the rushing sound of water while Colter tethered the horse. He came up behind her, circling his arms around her waist.

“Are you cold, Jo?”

“Not as long as I have you to keep me warm.”

He pressed his face into her hair. “Do you want to talk?”

“Not yet.” She leaned against him, taking comfort from the steady beat of his heart and the steady strength of his arms.

He cradled her, crooning a soft song in his native tongue.

“Warm me, Colter.”

He led her to his blanket. There was no slow unveiling this time, but a haste made necessary by clamoring need. Theirs was a fierce joining, a coming together that sought to shut out the world. Their problems were forgotten in the frenzy of passion.

And when it was over, when they lay wrapped in a close embrace with only the moon to cover them, they talked.

“Tell me about your home, Jo. Do you live with your parents?”

“No. I have a small house across town from them, and they have round-the-clock help, but I don't like to depend on strangers for their care. I take them on assignment whenever I can.”

“There have been studies done of people like your father. I know you take good care of him and that nothing can take the place of a child's love, but it has been proven that strict routine is the best possible care.”

She sat up. “Nursing homes?”

“Sometimes.”

“Never. I will never send him off to one of those places with cold tiles on the floor and indifferent people behind their almighty desks, dispensing false sympathy and big bills.”

“I'm not suggesting that you should, at least not yet. But when the time comes, I hope you'll give the nursing homes a fair assessment. I think you'll change your mind. There are many loving and caring people out there who are also trained to take care of people like Silas.”

She stood up. “Take me back, Colter. This is no solution, this is outrage.”

“Jo. Hear me out.” He reached for her, pulling her back down. He cuddled her against his chest, stroking her hair. “I'm trying to speak not as your lover but as an objective professional.”

“I don't need professional objectivity. He's my
father.”

“I know that, Yellow Bird. I know that.” He rocked her in his arms a while, then reached for his denim shirt. “Give me your arms, sweetheart.” He helped her into the shirt. While she fastened the buttons, he pulled on his jeans.

She gave him a sheepish grin and went straight to his arms.

“Sometimes when I don't get enough sleep I'm mean and irrational.”

“I have a cure.” He smiled.

“Not yet.” She pressed her forehead against his shoulder. “I'm ready to listen now.”