Night Hawk'S Bride (Tyler) (Harlequin Historical Series, No 558) (5 page)

“If you compare him to a bear. Meka,
sit.
” Night Hawk snapped his fingers and the huge dog sank to his haunches, tongue hanging out, a sparkle in his eye, imploring to be stroked.

Marie couldn't resist running her fingers across his broad head. His fur was warm from the sun and bristly soft. A bronzed hand much bigger than her own settled on the dog's head and stroked only a hairbreadth from her fingers.

Marie burned as if she'd touched the sun.

Night Hawk moved away, as if he were upset. “Come, Kammeo will be glad to see you.”

As though his words had brought her, a whinny carried across the windswept meadow where a horse skidded to a stop at the split-rail fence, her red mane flying in the wind.

But what drew Marie's attention, and kept it, was the way Night Hawk's blue cotton shirt was unbuttoned, showing a wide strip of golden skin and hard, delineated muscle.

“I've been getting her used to a bridle. She doesn't like it.” Night Hawk stroked one big hand down the horse's cheek. “I'm having a small problem training her. I don't know anything about a lady's sidesaddle.”

“Neither do I.”

“That must be how you ride in Ohio.”

“I've never ridden a horse before.”

“Now I understand why your father ‘forgot' to buy you a mare.” Night Hawk climbed over the rails and then held out his hand.

Marie looked at his wide palm, callused from hard work, and laid her hand on his. Heat seared through her like lightning across a dark sky. Light burst within her so bright it hurt.

Night Hawk's eyes went black. His strong fingers curled around the side of her hand. Had he experienced this, too?

She concentrated on fitting her shoe on the lower rung and climbing. Her skirts caught the wind and twisted tight around her ankles, but Night Hawk held her steady.

Her feet touched the ground, but she couldn't feel it.

A warm velvet horse's nose bumped against her shoulder in greeting. Dazed, Marie stroked the mare's neck and tried to marvel at the heated coat that stretched tautly over the steely muscles beneath. Night Hawk moved close, tying a rope he'd lifted from one of the fence posts, and slipped the makeshift halter over Kammeo's nose.

“She is your first horse, and you will be her first rider.” Night Hawk shouldered close to slip the pliant hemp over the mare's ears. “You'll learn together.”

Excitement thrilled through her. He nodded once in understanding, as if he could read her secret wishes and dreams.

“Hold the rope tight, right here.” He placed her hand firmly in front of his.

At once she felt the quivering life force of the mare and the steady steel of the man. Like a dream, he led the way deeper into the field, walking beside Marie as if he belonged there. As if he were a part of her.

He spoke low, and Kammeo moved. The rope pulled taut, and Marie felt a connection to the man that she couldn't explain. Night Hawk halted behind her, with only the wind between them. Her body tingled and burned as if they were touching, chest to back, thigh to thigh.

“Don't be afraid,” he murmured.

She blushed. He'd noticed she was trembling, but she wasn't afraid.

“Keep her going in a circle.”

 

His words breezed against the back of her neck, sending arrows of pure sensation down her spine.

“Hold on tight.”

She needed to hold on to her senses, that's what she needed. But Night Hawk stepped away, leaving her alone with the rope. Kammeo didn't miss a beat and when Night Hawk spoke, the mare broke into a disciplined trot, leaving Marie to rotate in a smaller circle of her own, faster against the wind and the sun.

He leaned against the fence. “Are you getting dizzy?”

“Not yet, but if she goes any faster…”

“Turn and walk backward. I can come help.”

“No.” Simply looking at him, with his hair bound at his nape and his shirt snapping open to let the sun worship his bronze chest, pleased her immensely. She wanted to feel his touch more than anything in the world.

Embarrassed by her thoughts, she turned, leading with her back shoulder, and the world stopped spinning so fast. Kammeo broke into a blinding gallop. The land became a swirl of green grass and golden sun.

Then Night Hawk's hand covered hers and brought the mare to a stop. Disappointed, Marie swayed into a steely chest. Lean, muscled arms enfolded her and kept her steady. How wonderful it was when wishes came true. He smelled like summer wind and mowed grass, and he felt hotter than the sun.

“Are you all right?”

“I will be.” If she could catch her breath and find the good sense that had obviously taken leave of her.
Marie stumbled away, not sure if she was dizzy from twirling or light-headed from being in his arms.

Kammeo stood obediently and waited while Marie approached, and the mare nickered in friendship. The horse offered her cheek to be rubbed.

Grateful for something to do, something that would keep her from thinking about the man two paces behind her, Marie stroked her fingers along the horse's sleek coat.

Kammeo leaned into the touch with an appreciative-sounding groan.

“You two are a good match.” Night Hawk's shadow fell across Marie as he untied the makeshift halter. “I will have her saddle-trained by the end of the month.”

Marie watched, captivated, as he rubbed his big, gentle hand down the mare's satin neck, talking low and kind to the animal. Full of spirit, Kammeo took off at a hard gallop, tail and mane streaming like fire in the wind.

“That's what I want to do. I want to race her with the wind.” Longing filled her as she watched the red mare fly across the meadow.

He laughed loud and true, as if from the depths of his soul. “Your father is going to ban me from the fort for selling you that horse. I'll train her for you, but that's it. Ride her fast or not, I refuse to be responsible.”

“Being banned from the fort wouldn't be
that
much of a hardship.”

“Joke all you want. I am not angering the colonel.” Night Hawk couldn't believe it. The sedate, upstand
ing English teacher the colonel had been promising the area settlers was nothing short of a lie. Or maybe the colonel and his love of discipline and command was too blind to see the spirited filly he'd sired.

Spirited fillies were hard to handle, that was for sure.

“Teach me to ride like you do.” Her skirts whispered behind him. “Please. I won't tell my father if you don't.”

“He'll know, believe me.” Night Hawk tossed the coiled rope over the fence post, fighting with himself. No one had made him laugh in a long time. Maybe it wouldn't hurt….

No, he shouldn't do it. He
wouldn't
do it. “Let me grab my musket and I'll see you home.”

“I can find my way back.” Marie's chin lifted.

Her bonnet ties and long wavy curls framed her face, and he couldn't look away.

It was as if he'd seen her face a thousand times in his thoughts since he'd saved her from the runaway horse. Turning his back and walking away from her hurt as if a knife were slicing him.

Maybe walking with her wasn't such a good idea.

“I'll wait on the path near the lake, then,” he said without looking at her again. “I can keep an eye on you for most of the way to the settlement. Meka will stay with you. He'll scare off any wild animals.”

“Thank you.” She placed her woman-soft hand in his as she climbed over the fence.

Fire seared through his veins for the brief moment it took her to reach the ground.

“Can I come back and watch you train her?” An
innocent longing gleamed in her eyes. Her face was flushed from the excitement and pleasure of working with Kammeo.

“Can I stop you?”

“No.” She was passion and beauty, and far out of his reach.

He couldn't keep from noticing the sway of her body beneath that dress. He couldn't halt the pounding desire for her in his blood.

She'll never be yours.
He knew it. But that truth didn't stop him from wanting her long after she'd disappeared from his sight or deep into the night where he lay alone in his bed.

Always alone.

A
dog's welcoming bark shattered the serene lakeside meadow. Loons and warblers rose from the tall grasses with squawks of protest. Butterflies feeding on the fragrant wildflowers scattered on the wind. On the sun-bright water, a pair of ducks and their half-grown chicks glided farther into the lake.

The huge black dog bounded down the grassy path, his tongue lolling. He leaped at her, his face friendly. Not knowing how to stop him, Marie accepted his big paws on her shoulders and rubbed his ears until Night Hawk's voice thundered across the shoreline.

“Meka.
Down.
”

Marie laughed when the dog lunged at her basket. “You'll have to wait like a gentleman,” she told him.

“If you're looking for gentlemen, you're in the wrong territory.” Night Hawk halted on the path in front of her, winded from running. His chest rose and fell, attracting her gaze. He wore dark trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. She noticed his shirt was unbuttoned again and showed a wedge of bronze chest.

He'd been working in his fields, shirtless, and she'd missed it. Longing swept through her. “You said I could come back. I brought baked goods so you'd let me stay longer this time.”

“Baked goods?” The stony look on his face softened. “Give me that basket.”

“You must have a sweet tooth.”

“A great big one.” When he took the basket from her, he was careful to keep his fingers well away from hers. As they walked, he kept a respectful distance between them.

“Were you cutting more hay?” she asked.

“Oats this time. The cut grass is still drying.” He didn't look at her but strode with leashed power that made her think of a wolf stalking prey.

She'd thought of him many times in the passing days, but she realized her remembered images of him paled when compared to the reality. He seemed taller, imposing, and so essentially masculine that she felt small next to him.

“My niece Morning Star said she met you.” Night Hawk held aside a low fir branch that hung over the path so Marie could easily pass. “She said you came in your buggy with the sergeant.”

“Morning Star is your niece?” Marie hadn't considered that the native family she'd visited yesterday morning could be related to Night Hawk. “I bet she'll be one of my best students.”

“She was first in her class last year when the school was first opened.” Pride expanded his shoulders even wider. “She rode over this morning on her pony and told me all about you.”

“Is she excited for school to start?”

“She can't wait. I'm told she likes reading best.”

“I'll remember that.” Marie thought of all the children she'd met so far. “Some parents are hesitant to send their children to learn from the fort teacher. I'm hoping my visits will make a difference.”

As they crested the small rise and Night Hawk's land spread out around them in gentle rolling hills of green and gold, of grazing horses and thriving crops, Marie couldn't imagine being lucky enough to live in a cozy log cabin like he did. Or gaze through the window to see foals romping in the pastures while their mothers watched.

He held out his hand to help her over the fence.

Fire consumed her in hot, bright sparkles that made it impossible to ignore. She was thoroughly attracted to the man.

Kammeo broke over the crest of the hill, mane and tail flying, strong legs churning the ground as she galloped. The sight of her stole Marie's breath.

She's mine, all mine.
Happiness wrapped her up like a thick down quilt, and with Night Hawk at her side, Marie imagined just for a moment what it would be like to stay like this forever.

Another foolish daydream, but even as she tried to force the wish from her mind, it remained.

Kammeo charged down the hill like a warhorse and skidded to a stop dangerously near. But Night Hawk didn't move a muscle, so Marie wasn't afraid. She reached into her skirt pocket.

Kammeo nickered in approval and, as if she'd read
Marie's mind, had her teeth around the treat in Marie's hand the instant she'd taken it from her pocket.

“Spoiling her already?”

“I'm trying my best.” Marie laughed as the sugar cookie disappeared in one quick bite. “Lucky I have more. Have you worked with her already today?”

“No, I train the horses in the afternoon.” He said nothing more as he turned, leaving her alone with Kammeo.

The horse nudged Marie's pocket, wise to its contents, and made an affectionate nickering sound. How could Marie resist? She withdrew another cookie and loved the feel of Kammeo's soft lips on her palm.

Was she really here and not dreaming? Marie marveled at this exceptional moment in time. The warm sun kissed her with a welcome heat, and the shivering grasses and wildflowers sent dazzling fragrances into the clean air. Birds chirped and butterflies glided. Kammeo leaned her nose against Marie, pressing from her breastbone to her stomach, and contentment filled her, warm and sweet.

She knew the instant Night Hawk returned. The sun felt brighter and the wind sweeter. Harmony flooded her, like a melody finding harmony. All the pieces of her life fell into place. A beautiful sense of rightness filled her as Night Hawk shouldered past her, the bridle in hand.

She resisted the urge to lay her hand against the high plane of his cheek. But she
knew.

Everything in her life had happened for a reason—and it was to bring her here—to this meadow, to this man.

 

“She's still afraid of my weight.” The colonel's daughter spun toward him in the shaded circle of the corral. “I'm doing this wrong.”

“No, she needs time to learn to trust you.” Night Hawk fought to keep his feelings for the woman neutral. “She's getting tired, aren't you, girl? Don't worry, Marie. She'll let you know when she's ready.”

“I'll trust you on that.”

“You seem to like working with her.”

“Sure, but I remember you saying that
you
would train her.”

He laughed because he saw the teasing sparkles in her eyes. “You said you wanted to ride like I do. That is something only you and Kammeo can do together.”

“I knew you were going to say that.” Marie laid one slender hand against the fence. Exhaustion marked her delicate skin, but her face was flushed with pleasure.

He ought to send her home. Every instinct he had roared at him to keep his distance. But his heart overruled. He told himself he had a fondness for a fellow horse lover, that was all. But he was only lying to himself and he knew it.

“I'm out of cookies.” The gentle trill of her laughter drew him. Kammeo was nosing at Marie's skirt pocket again, determined to find the treat she deserved for putting up with that scary experience of having a little weight on her back. “Night Hawk, what do I do?”

“I'll get some grain.” He liked rescuing Marie, if only from her overly affectionate mare.

When he returned with a small pail of grain and a currycomb, he found Kammeo chewing contentedly and Marie rubbing her nose. The picnic basket was in the grass just outside the fence, evidence that Marie hadn't waited for the grain.

“Gave in, did you?” He set the pail on the ground in front of the mare as she stole another cookie from Marie's hand.

“I couldn't resist.”

“How do you keep discipline in a classroom with that soft heart of yours?”

“I use the same method I do with Kammeo. I win them over with cookies.”

“The children in this settlement are lucky that you came to teach them. Is that what you brought me in your basket? Cookies?”

“Yes. You should have seen the outrage on Mrs. Olstad's face when she came in from shopping to find me making a mess in her kitchen. She must think I'm some sort of pampered, spoiled little girl. She didn't believe me when I promised I wouldn't set the kitchen afire and I'd clean up afterward.”

“I bet she wasn't happy when you proved her wrong.”

“She forbade me to step foot in her kitchen again, but I'm planning on winning her over. I'm not sure cookies will work.”

How Marie charmed him. Like stars drawing the moon across the sky, Night Hawk felt a potent, undeniable attraction. Intense desire turned his blood to liquid fire. Never had he wanted anything as much as the right to draw Marie into his arms and claim her as his.

A dangerous need. One he refused to give in to.

Hands trembling, he pulled a currycomb out of the second pail and concentrated on grooming the horse. Long, gliding strokes along the mare's flank that kept him from thinking about Marie.

But he heard the tap of her shoe on the earth and a clatter of steel against the small bucket. Marie wasn't so easy to ignore. She gently assured Kammeo there were no more cookies in her pocket.

He should send Marie home now, while he still could. He'd finish training the horse himself and there would be no more visits. No more temptation.

That's what he should do.

“I brought something besides the cookies,” Marie said as she watched him across the span of the mare's withers. “It's not for you, I'm afraid. I brought some books Morning Star might like to read. You said she rides her pony over to visit you. I don't think I'll get a chance to see her before school starts.”

“What kind of books?”

“A few children's stories about horses. I hope that will keep her excited about going to school.”

As the wind caressed her hair and the sun graced her with fire, Marie wasn't just beauty, but spirit too.

One that touched his.

Night Hawk felt his steel will melt like a candle beneath a hot flame.

How was he going to resist her now?

 

The excitement of preparing the schoolhouse was a shadow when compared to the brightness Marie felt
from being with Night Hawk. She loved teaching but it wasn't the reason she hummed as she tottered on the low stool to hang the curtains she'd made.

“Miss Lafayette?” a woman's modest voice broke the silence.

The curtain rod fell from Marie's fingers. “Goodness, you surprised me. I didn't hear you on the steps. Please, come in.”

Spring Rain, Morning Star's mother, studied the desks lined in neat rows. “The children will learn well here.”

“I sure hope so.” Marie hopped off the stool and rescued the fallen curtains. “I hope all your children will be attending?”

“We shall see. My husband is not sure. He doesn't see the use in his sons knowing letters and numbers.” Spring Rain hesitated in the center of the room. “Morning Star is my first husband's daughter, Night Hawk's brother, and so Running Deer will allow her to attend school. Night Hawk brought your books this morning. I came to thank you.”

“I hope she enjoys them.” Marie fit the wood rod over the wooden pins, and the green gingham curtains cascaded into place. “Would you like some tea? I have cookies, too.”

“My sweet tooth is my weakness.” She accepted with warm laughter. “Your father has done great things in this settlement. It has been hard with my people leaving. Only a few of us remain.”

This was about Night Hawk, Marie realized as she poured two cups of tea.

“I know that Night Hawk is training a horse for you.” Spring Rain accepted the cup and cradled it in her hands.

“Yes. She's a beautiful mare.” Marie set the plate of cookies on the desk between them.

“Night Hawk is an attractive man,” Spring Rain said quietly. “He has magic with horses. His father was a great horseman.”

Marie heard what Spring Rain was afraid to say. All of it. How Father had made things better for her people and the settlers, bringing teachers and trying to make a community where everyone belonged—whether they spoke German, Swedish, English or Sauk.

“I won't hurt him, I promise.” Marie spoke the words sincerely, meaning them with her entire heart. “I'm only buying a horse from him.”

“But there is more.” Spring Rain set down her cup, the cookies forgotten. “He has known many heartaches and losses. He is alone and that is not good for a man capable of great tenderness. You may not see what I do, but you can hurt him. I came to ask that you think on what I've said.”

Genuine concern filled the woman's eyes. She nodded once and left with the whisper of deerskin and the pad of moccasins.

Marie stood and pulled the edge of the curtain back. Four boys and a girl stood quietly in the shade of a sugar maple just outside the schoolyard. Spring Rain hurried to them, head down as if she still struggled with her emotion. The little girl with twin black braids looked up at the schoolhouse and waved.

Marie waved back, her heart heavy. She hadn't re
alized all that was at stake in this settlement where so many different people had come to make a better life.

This surely was a place where a woman like her could fall in love with a man like Night Hawk. Without consequences. Without prejudices. Without causing harm.

Still, the memory of Spring Rain's concern remained in Marie's thoughts the rest of the morning.

 

“That's right, Kammeo,” Night Hawk praised as he tightened the cinch. “Marie, hold her tighter.”

“She's starting to shy.”

“Just speak calmly to her.” Night Hawk remained at Kammeo's side, close enough to reach the leather reins in case Marie had any trouble.

She uttered soft, soothing words that reassured the mare, who wasn't sure about the leather thing resting on her back.

“Good Kammeo, good girl.” Marie circled past him, tossing him a victorious smile. Her skirts swirled around her ankles, gracefully hugging her soft hips and lean thighs.

Fire ignited into a sharp physical want. The blood thickened in his veins.

What was wrong with him? He had better control than that. He fought it, but the drum of desire within him remained.