Night Hawk'S Bride (Tyler) (Harlequin Historical Series, No 558) (18 page)

Even as he hoped there could be another dream to show him a different way, he knew he was being foolish by wanting something that could never be. To fight against the old ways would be to disrespect his father's and his father's father's beliefs.

He could not turn his back on the Sauk warrior be
neath the store-bought clothes. Just as he could no longer run from the truth.

In giving up his future with her, he was giving her a better life. He would grieve, but in time she would not even remember him. She would only see the face of her rightful husband, a white military man her father could accept.

 

There was one task she had left, aside from teaching her last class tomorrow, and it would not be an easy one.

Marie halted Kammeo with the slight touch of her heels and debated which path to take. If she chose the regular road, she would arrive at Night Hawk's place as she'd first come, as a visitor and practically a stranger. If she chose the trail that bordered the lake, she would have to face her memories.

She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting hard not to take the lake path. She wanted to see the meadow where she'd made love to Night Hawk for the first time. That could even be where they had conceived their child. Memories made her chest warm with happiness.

But if she chose that path, then she would be clinging to what happened in the past. The thickening of her waist was still not too noticeable and her cloak hid it well, but she could feel the difference within her. No, she could not look back, only forward.

She chose the main road, and Kammeo seemed to sense what was to come because she held back, walking so slowly it seemed to take an hour to reach Night Hawk's land.

She didn't see him at first. There was no sun to
glitter on the shadowed ice and no wind to stir the trees. The snowbound fields held no grazing horses. Some of the beautiful animals drowsed in corrals next to the half-dozen stables. In the spot where the cabin used to be stood a structure half-built, golden logs a bright splash of color against the wintry world.

A dog's bark split the air, bouncing off the miles of snow, and she brightened. Meka! She would miss the dog that had been her companion to and from the fort all those months ago. He dashed toward her now, furry and big as a bear, his long tongue lolling.

“Meka!” A voice boomed like thunder across meadows, and the dog restrained himself.

Night Hawk strode into sight on the hill above. He wore heavy winter clothes and held a mallet in one hand. He stood proud and tall and with the wind snapping through his black hair. He looked valiant and dashing, a prince from one of her fairy-tale books.

“Night Hawk.” She loved saying his name. She loved everything about him. Nothing could ever change that. “What happened to your cabin?”

He strode closer, lifting one wide shoulder in a casual shrug as if it were nothing. “Ice storm,” he said simply, abrupt and curt.

He hadn't meant what he'd said in Henry's house, she knew he didn't, but it was hard to remember that now as he wore a frown that made him look intimidating and harsh.

This was Night Hawk, she reminded herself and took a steadying breath. “Where are you living?”

“In one of the stables. I made a room of two stalls, cleared away all the straw and added a stove.” He
spoke quickly and without inflection, as if he were speaking to someone he wished hadn't dropped by for a visit.

Her palms grew damp inside her mittens. “I'm leaving on the Friday afternoon stage.”

“Is that so?” He looked at the horse, then at the road and at the forest. At everything but her. “I thought we already said our goodbyes.”

“I only want the truth this time.” He was so distant. How did she make him look at her? “This is the last time we have to sort this out. I told you when we spoke last that I don't share my father's prejudices. Whatever he said to you was uncalled-for, and he is not the man I thought he was. The man I wished he would be.”

“Stop.” He held up his gloved hand, the frown on his face twisting into anger. “I thought I made it clear. I have not spoken to your father since before the ice storm.”

“But he's so angry with you—”

“Marie, this is very difficult for me and I'm only going to say it one more time.” His face twisted and he stared hard at the horizon as if looking for something. Then he focused on her with single-minded intensity. “Goodbye.”

His gaze was like an accusation, and it made her feel small and shamed. She saw that he was telling the truth, for his stare was uncompromising. If Henry hadn't spoken to him, then that meant—

She was ashamed of herself for coming here when she'd vowed to let him be the one to decide their fu
ture. That she would not try to influence him like an immature girl.

Pain washed through her like a mighty wave, drowning all her hopes. Leaving her without the will to fight him anymore.

He meant what he said. He didn't want her.
She took a slow breath, trying to stay calm. She wouldn't cry in front of him. With deliberate control, she dismounted. When her boots touched the hard ground, it jarred her.

“I've come to return the mare.” She lifted her chin, facing him, trying to hide the humiliation she felt inside. “Kammeo was a fine gift, but I can't take her back to Ohio with me.”

“I should pay you for her.” How noble he sounded.

She wanted to hate him for it. “No. She was freely given, and I don't want to profit from her. I will always be grateful she was my first horse. I will miss her.”

Night Hawk stood waiting, as still as stone.

So, is this the way love ended? Marie wondered. With uncomfortable silences and awkward farewells? Love burned within her, rare and honest, and it was all she could do to turn her back and walk away.

She didn't want to say goodbye. She never wanted to say another thing to him.

As if he felt the same way, Night Hawk didn't follow her. Kammeo's neigh shattered the silence, seeming to call her back.

Don't look, Marie told herself. There was nothing else to do but keep walking.

Meka fell in stride beside her, a silent companion
back to the fort. His presence reminded her of better days when a new love shone more brightly than the autumn sun.

Or maybe she only thought so. Like Henry had said, maybe she'd been a foolish girl who'd only fancied herself in love.

She laid her hand over her stomach. Now she would pay the consequences.

 

Go to her, his heart called to him. How beautiful she'd looked on Kammeo, spirited and bright. Everything within him shouted with the need to claim her as his. To fold her in his arms and never let her go.

All evening he thought of her, saw the exact moment when she realized he didn't want her. Tears had filled her eyes but hadn't fallen. Her chin had shot up with pride, but the wobble to her bottom lip had shown her pain.

He tossed and turned all night, dreaming of her in his arms. Dreaming of kissing away the heartbreak on her face. They made sweet passionate love, and when he woke he cried out for the dream.

But she was gone forever.

 

“Are you ready, Marie?” Henry tapped on her door. “The sergeant has taken your trunks to the stage. It leaves in ten minutes.”

“Yes. I'm just checking to make sure I have everything.” Marie felt hollow inside, and maybe that was for the best. Dissolving into tears now wouldn't serve any purpose.

“I'll be downstairs, then.” Henry marched away, his gait military and precise.

There was nothing for her at Fort Tye. Not a husband. Not a home. Not a job. Leaving was for the best.

She took her reticule from the bed and left the room. She descended the stairs and found her cloak by the door. As she slipped into it, she realized this place had never been a home. Even with all its finery, it was nothing without love. Henry would never understand that, but she did.

She would never marry a man who didn't love her, even if she was carrying his baby.

Henry walked beside her all the way to the stage. Several soldiers wished her luck. Mrs. Kelsey hurried out of the store to give her a goodbye hug and wish her a safe journey. Her aunt needed her was the story Henry had concocted to keep any tarnish off his reputation. No one knew the real reason she was leaving.

As she climbed aboard and waited while Henry settled on the seat beside her, she gazed out the small window. Business went on as usual. Farmers' wives were driving their family sleighs to the mercantile to trade eggs and butter for supplies. Farmers had come to see if an order had arrived on the stage. Horses and riders hurried by, and a cavalry unit trotted through the gates and disappeared from sight.

Then a movement in the sky drew her attention. It was a lone hawk soaring across the leaden clouds on wide, powerful wings. It circled once and then disappeared, as if it had meant to say goodbye.

Even though Night Hawk had shattered her heart, she couldn't stop hoping he'd come. Just a little bit.

The stage bounced forward and carried her away from the mercantile and the strong fort walls. It jounced on the road until there was nothing but forest on either side.

And only a future without Night Hawk ahead.

“New love burns the brightest, you know that now.” Henry apparently thought he should dispense some fatherly wisdom.

Not that she thought of him in that way anymore. “I don't want to talk about this. I just want to head home.”

But her heart would never forget the man whose bright, beautiful love had illuminated her world for a time.

She would be in darkness without him.

N
ight Hawk watched the bird wobble on his shaky descent. The injured hawk was almost recovered. Soon he would be able to return to the forest where he belonged.

Just like Marie was returning to Ohio.
Good.
Returning home was best for her. She belonged in a world where people hosted dinner parties in their finely furnished homes and drank coffee and brandy in the parlor. It wouldn't take long for her to find a wealthy white husband who would give her everything she deserved.

Everything Night Hawk would have to work a lifetime to give her.

Kammeo neighed, already lonely, pacing the corral as if looking for a way out. She'd been restless since Marie had left her. Even Meka sat on the knoll keeping a lookout should Marie return.

This is for the best.
His loss was nothing when compared to the better life awaiting Marie. He'd never been to a large city, he'd never been far from this lake, but he knew Ohio would be the right place for her.
Thinking of her happy was the only thing that could ease the pain of his broken heart.

 

Henry had left her at Chicago, returning because he was needed at the fort. And probably because he knew there was no reason for her to return to Fort Tye. She wished there were.

She'd been gone for two weeks and so far the trip hadn't been easy. She watched the morning sun blare on the waters of Lake Michigan. Winter still gripped the land, but spring was fighting to take hold. Birds trilled as she waited to climb aboard the stage.

“Traveling all alone, ma'am?” the driver asked, eyeing her stomach, which was now harder to hide.

She blushed, grateful for the gloves on her hand, hiding the evidence that she was unmarried. “Yes. I am on my way home.”

“Then your husband will be glad to see you. Here, let me help you up. The step's mighty high.”

“Thank you.” Marie knew the driver only meant to be kind. He couldn't know there was no husband. And the father of her baby didn't want to see her again.

Sorrow wrapped tight around her, and she settled on the seat. Across the aisle a married couple nodded at her, their two sons well mannered and quiet between them.

She tried not to think what Night Hawk's son might look like. Somehow, as she felt her body change, she knew she carried a boy. A baby she loved with all of her being, just as she still loved his father.

The door slammed, and the coach jerked into mo
tion on the partly muddy and partly frozen road. Her stomach twisted, and she reached into her pocket for a cracker. Her morning sickness had never left her completely. The constant swaying of the stage didn't make her feel any better.

She nibbled at the edge of the cracker and watched the sunlight play on the water. She couldn't help remembering the lake she'd left behind, a place of endless wilderness and crystal-clear water where she longed to be.

If she closed her eyes, she could feel the heat of Night Hawk's touch on her skin. She could smell the winter and man scent of him.

A little more of her died with each passing mile.

 

“I'll take all four,” Captain McGee nodded at the geldings trotting around the corral. He waded through the mud made by spring rains and melting snow, never taking his gaze from the horses. “They're the best-looking Arabians I've seen this side of St. Louis. You have a fine talent.”

“It's a talent anyone can learn.” Night Hawk joined the captain on higher—and firmer—ground. “You are making good progress in that direction.”

“I still don't seem to have the knack, although I'm able to set a decent shoe.” The young officer stuck out his hand. “I'll have the colonel sign the paperwork and you'll have your money by week's end.”

“I appreciate it, Captain.” Night Hawk sealed the deal with a handshake. “I'll bring the horses in on my next trip to the fort.”

“Thanks.” McGee mounted. Meka barked a farewell and watched until the horse and rider had disappeared from sight.

“C'mon, boy, it feels like rain.” Night Hawk whistled to his dog and headed toward the new house on the knoll. Only loneliness awaited him there, empty rooms that dreams had once filled. But he steeled his spine and opened the door.

Meka collapsed on the rug in the mudroom, and Night Hawk lit a fire in the new stove.

A hawk's faint cry penetrated the thick log walls. A bird sailed past the windows and landed on the front porch rail.

Night Hawk grabbed a handful of jerked venison and headed through the house. “So, you've been out testing those wings. Did you find any female hawks?”

The blue hawk cocked his head, squawking softly.

Even though he knew better than to make a pet out of a wild creature, Night Hawk rubbed his fingers over the bird's soft head. “Here. Catch.”

He broke off a small chunk of jerky and tossed it into the air. The hawk dove after it, catching it neatly. While the bird thought it was a game, Night Hawk was helping him strengthen his wings to hunt. The bird was quick. Night Hawk would be surprised if the bird wasn't hunting on his own soon.

Then it would be another goodbye.

No, he wouldn't think of Marie. He stopped his mind before he even conjured her in memory. She'd been gone a long while.

She wasn't coming back.

 

“Of course you must stay.” Aunt Gertrude lifted the cozy from the teapot and refilled both their cups. “I'll help you any way I can.”

“I'm very grateful.” Marie managed a shaky smile. “If you didn't take me, I wouldn't have anywhere else to go right now.”

“And the father doesn't know about the baby?” Gently prying, Gertrude's gaze squinted, measuring. “Marie, you mean you didn't tell him?”

“I didn't have the chance.”

“Oh, Marie.” Gertrude pushed the sugar bowl closer. “He deserves to know about the baby.”

“I know, but it was hard to find a way to tell him when he was explaining to me that he didn't want me anymore.” Guilty enough, Marie stared out the window where the orchard was in full bloom. Bright new leaves and blossoms of light pink, dark pink, white and plum dappled color everywhere.

“Did he say those exact words?”

Marie nodded. “No. He said that we didn't suit.”

“That's an odd thing to say. Men who don't want to marry usually turn tail and run, in my limited experience.”

“He said we were like a bird and a star, but that didn't make any sense to me.” Marie watched a pink crab apple petal feather by on the breeze. It looked as lost as she felt. “I don't want to bring shame to you, Aunt Gertrude. Papa and I have disowned each other over it, and what if our neighbors shun you—”

“Pish-posh! Let me deal with everyone. Why, you grew up here so we can hope our friends will under
stand. And if they don't, shame on anyone who thinks my Marie isn't a good girl. You were in love. There's no crime in that.” The older woman's hand covered hers. “You look unhappy. Is there anything I can do?”

“Not unless you can change the past.” Another blossom sailed by on the wind, and she couldn't help remembering that Night Hawk had an orchard near his house. His trees would be blooming too, scattering color with the wind.

“It will be all right, Marie.” Gertrude's hand squeezed gently. “You can stay right here and raise your baby. Goodness knows I would welcome your child in my home.”

Overwhelmed, Marie could only nod her gratefulness. She had a place here with her beloved aunt, where she'd lived since she was very young. It was home.

But as beautiful as it was, it wasn't the home her soul longed for.

 

“Dear, are you sure you want to stay in the carriage?” Gertrude asked while perched on the busy street corner. “No one's going to comment on your pregnancy. Goodness, no one even mentions such a thing in polite company.”

Marie squinted against the sun in her eyes. “You're not fooling me. You're trying to lift my spirits with a shopping trip.”

“Am I succeeding?”

“No.” Marie pulled a book out of her reticule. “I'll be happy reading right here. At least I'm away from the house.”

“You'll get too warm sitting here.”

“Reginald will find some shade to park in.” Marie motioned toward the driver, who'd been her aunt's hired man forever. “Go, run your errands. I will be fine.”

“All right, but I won't be long.” Gertrude pressed a kiss to Marie's cheek, then turned to the driver. “Reginald, take care of my girl and get her out of the sun.”

Marie watched her aunt hurry down the boardwalk, arrowing through the crowd with single-minded focus. When Gertrude was coming, people moved right or left to get out of her way.

Love filled her heart for this woman who was the only mother Marie could remember. It came to her then with the buggy jerking as Reginald pulled out into traffic and the noise of the streets assaulted her ears, the truth she'd missed all along.

Gertrude was all that a mother should be. If Marie needed a parent's love, she didn't need to look any further. She'd spent her entire life trying to earn Henry's affection. When she'd had Gertrude's all along.

That lifted her spirits just a little. Reginald found a place in the shade by a park. The merry shouts of children playing distracted her from her book, and she gazed out the window.

Yearning filled her. The long stretch of green grass, the lush maples swaying gently in the wind. A finch trilled from a low branch as if rejoicing in the late spring day. Marie closed her eyes and saw, as clearly as if she were there, the endless forests and the gently
rolling hills, the sparkling water and fragrant meadows.

She opened her eyes, and the images faded. The jangling of harnesses, wheels on the street, shouts of drivers back and forth, the bang of a delivery wagon, the slam of a door. It wasn't just the noise that unsettled her. The long row of shops that went on for as far as she could see. The traffic. The smell of someone's forgotten garbage. Unclean streets.

How could she raise Night Hawk's son here? He would never know the sound of wind through the trees in an ancient forest. Or see a hawk soar across the face of the sun. Or feel the power of a mustang beneath him as he raced through lakeside meadows.

A longing pierced her so sharp that she couldn't breathe. Hadn't she realized it before? Why the days had passed slowly here and felt as if without light? She missed Wisconsin. She loved everything about it. Somehow during her stay there it had become a part of her soul.

Just like Night Hawk had.

Thinking of him filled her with pain. She laid her hand on her round stomach. He would not want his son to be raised where there was no forest. Where the closest piece of nature was a small city park.

The carriage door swung open and Gertrude climbed inside. Her shopping bags were full and rustled and crackled as she set them down on the opposite seat.

“Here, dear, I have something for you. Henry had it forwarded here.” She searched through one of her bags. “Now, where did it go? Oh, here it is.”

Marie could only stare at the letter. What if it was from Night Hawk? Suddenly she was too afraid to take the folded parchment. She was afraid not to take it.

“It's not from him.” Gertrude was kind as she pressed the letter into Marie's hand. “It's from someone named Morning Star. Is that an Indian name?”

“One of my former students.” Pleased, Marie managed to unfold the piece of paper and turned it right side up. Morning Star's family had reached the western mountains. They crossed over peaks so tall they almost touched the sky, the girl wrote.

Reading the girl's letter brought warmth back to Marie's heart. She was glad to know that Morning Star had a new baby sister, and that her great-great-grandfather was proud of her reading and writing skills.

When Marie was finished reading, she held the letter for a long while and simply stared at the page. Not at the words written there, but in memory of all she'd left behind.

Her heart. Her soul. Her baby's father.

She missed Night Hawk. How she missed him. She could not allow herself to think about him for fear of starting to cry. And never being able to stop.

She missed his tenderness. His touch. His pride. His spirit. Everything she'd ever felt for him remained alive in her heart. A big bright beautiful love still burned.

Thinking back, she tried to remember all he'd said to her when he'd come to break her heart. And how she'd remained troubled over it all this time. Goodbye,
shaylee,
he'd said. Not goodbye and good riddance.
Not simply goodbye. But he'd added his private endearment for her.
Shaylee.
The brightest star in the heavens.

“I know, I can tell by the look on your face,” Gertrude said as the buggy bounced along the cobblestone street. “But I won't have you traveling alone in your condition, and goodness knows with my lumbago I won't make it ten miles in a stagecoach. And yes, my dear Marie, I think you should go to him.”

Marie felt the tears come, finally. Not from weakness or grief. But from gladness. Love was everywhere in her life. And it was good.