Chapter Eight

Sensible people knew it would be wrong to take cattle land like ours and divide it up into little pieces—big enough for grazing rabbits, but not cattle…

—John Wooden Legs, “Back on the War Ponies”

Association of Indian Affairs Newsletter

 

The sound of the hooves was deafening when Soaring Eagle came back into sight. Seeing him, Kali let out a sigh of relief.

He had been right, of course. She should have listened to him. And now? Because of her inattention, was she going to lose her equipment, her precious pictures?

It made her want to cry. She had taken such pains to capture the beauty of the horses. Moreover she had been able to convince Soaring Eagle to let her snap his picture. There he’d been, sitting majestically in the middle of the horse herd, looking as though he were a princely lord rather than a cowboy—and what a photograph that would be…if she could save it.

She gulped back tears. To lose it all?

Not if she could help it. True, she knew that her situation was less than advantageous. True, the wagon might be too slow to outrun a herd of cattle, possibly even to get her to safety.

But what other choice did she have?

And so it was that she was midaction—tossing gear into the back of the wagon—when Soaring Eagle sprinted to her side, vaulting from his horse as easily as if he were a circus performer. But his visage, as she caught sight of it, was hardly that of an entertainer. He hit the ground at a run, shouting, “Unhitch the horses.”

“What?” she called.

“Unhitch the horses,” he ordered again, and darted to one of the sorrels in the team, where he began the process of undoing its harness.

“Stop that.” Kali dropped what she was doing and, stamping up to him, jerked the reins out of his hands.

“Are you crazy?” he asked, little waiting for her response. He hollered, “Look behind you.”

She did. “I know. I’ve seen them.”

“You will never get this wagon to safe ground; there isn’t time. And there is no need to kill these animals.” He continued to work over the harnesses.

“No!” She tried to pull his hands away. “There is time; there has to be time, and I will not leave this wagon and my equipment behind. If it goes down, I do, too.”

At these words, Soaring Eagle’s fingers stilled; he turned toward her, a frown marring his face. “That is a foolish thing to say,” he said, catching hold of her hand and pulling her in close to him. He leered at her. “You can always buy another camera.”

“Not that easily.”

“Yes, you can,” he said. As if to convince her with the force of his presence, he leaned down and positioned his face mere inches away from her.

Kali stood her ground, however, meeting his determined glance with one of her own. She came up onto her tiptoes; indeed, their bodies were so close, they stood practically nose to nose.

And then he said, “I will not let you die here.”

Time seemed to stop as she felt the heat of his breath on her face, the force of his anger on her being, but she refused to be intimidated, and she said, “It’s my choice to make.”

“Not today it isn’t.”

And that’s when it happened.

He closed the distance between them, his head coming down to hers. And before Kali could utter a word of protest, he had taken her lips with his own, swept his arms around her waist and pulled her into his embrace. His tongue unerringly found her own, danced with it until a low groan escaped from his throat.

Or was that her own voice?

Lifting his head a little, his breathing was fast and hard when his lips moved against hers in a whisper. “It is easier to replace an object than it is a life. In comparison, your camera and your equipment are cheap.”

“But—”

“Why do you risk something so valuable?” he asked. “Why do you do this when…”

When what? she wanted to ask.

But he remained silent, an odd look coming over his face.

When we have finally found one another? Was that what he’d been about to say?

The thought was alien to her. Still, she opened her mouth, perhaps to utter the words herself, but the good Lord help her, she couldn’t articulate a thing. Not when his handsome face swam so closely to her own.

And taking advantage, he kissed her again.

Kali forgot to breathe, forgot to think, even about the impending disaster.

In truth, a lifetime might have passed in that short space of time from the moment when his lips touched hers. Chest to chest they stood, so very close that she could feel the imprint of his rigid muscles beneath her hands. And truth be told, with his lips, his tongue, his very breath, he adored her.

Their breath commingled, the clean scent of him intoxicating to her. In addition, he had brought up his hands to her face, where his fingers caressed her cheeks, making her feel as though she were as rare as a handful of jewels. She breathed in, and the essence of who and what he was filled her being.

What was happening to her? To him? To them? What was happening to the world as she knew it? It was as though she and Soaring Eagle were a part of it, as they had always been, yet not. For in this moment, time ceased to rule their existence. There was no space, no discord, no prejudice, no distance, not even the span between his thoughts and hers. She knew him as easily, as surely and as logically as he must know her. And he was, she thought, beautiful…

At last he lifted his head, his dark eyes filled with unrest, with questions. Still, he smiled down at her before saying, “Do you see? You cannot give up so easily. Not now.”

Now? She opened her mouth to utter a word or two, but he was continuing, murmuring softly, “Believe me when I tell you that you have no choice but to let your horses go, if you wish them to live. Do not choose death for them, for yourself.”

Death? What was he talking about? All she could think of at this moment was life; wonderful, fascinating life…with him.

With him?

Suddenly the bubble burst; time once again intruded. It all came back to her. She was in danger. He was in danger. How could she have forgotten? Wasn’t the roar of the hooves enough to remind her of the impossibility of their situation? The need for quick action?

And he was in the way.

As though she had been jerked unwillingly back into the throb of present time, she awoke, remembering exactly who she was and worse, who he was. She gave him a push. “No,” she stated firmly, “you are wrong. I do not have to choose anything. And though I don’t intend to die, I will not lose my equipment.”

Not giving him a chance to answer, she broke out of his arms and ran as fast as she could back to the wagon, where, rounding it, she heaved the remaining pieces of her tools into the carryall. Then she sprinted toward the front of the wagon, where she jumped up onto the seat and, taking hold of the reins, gave them a jerk and cried, “Yah!”

But it was pointless; the team was already loose. Soaring Eagle had unhitched them.

“No!” she screamed. “What have you done?”

But Soaring Eagle, still on the ground, ignored her. Instead of speaking, he sent her a glance so full of raw heat, Kali was taken aback. There was no denying it: whatever he felt for her, it was strong. But what was it? Passion or hate?

She had no time, however, in which to debate the matter philosophically, since he had turned and was racing toward her, his movements so agile and quick, she was barely able to scoot an inch away before he had reached her. And without another minute passing, he had picked her up from the seat as though she weighed no more than a sack of potatoes.

She kicked out at him. “Let me down.”

“Haiya, what trouble you are. Listen with your ears instead of your white man’s pocketbook. Do you know that you could die here?” He tramped quickly toward one of the team horses. “You are to get on this animal, do you understand? You are to ride him to the rise over there where I led my other horses.” He pointed. “You will be safe there.”

Oh no, she wouldn’t.

She kicked out at him again, not that it did her any good. Failing this, she screamed at him, “I will not.”

“You will too.”

“Will not!” She gave a jerk of her foot toward that portion of his anatomy she knew might be vulnerable. It was a low blow and she knew it. However…

“Haiya!” He held her at arm’s length. “You do not play fair.”

“Neither do you, using your brute strength on me.”

“I am trying to save you.” As if to give emphasis to the fact, he heaved her up onto the back of the animal, but in doing so, she came free from him, and like a small child, squirmed through his arms, jumping to the ground and shooting back to the wagon as fast as she could go.

He followed her, catching her before she reached it. “What great, terrible trouble you are,” he repeated himself, picking her up and holding her under the crook of his arm, her feet at his back, where she could do little damage.

“Then don’t bother with me,” she hollered, struggling.

“At this moment, I would like nothing better than to see you never again,” he agreed. “But because you followed me here, I am responsible for you, and I will not let you die.”

She looked up to catch a range of emotions—anger, fear, annoyance—warring across the battlefield of his features. But something else was there, too. What? Concern, surely. But also another emotion—anxiety? Anxiety and…passion…for her? She stared hard at him, hoping to capture that look again and commit it to memory. But too quickly, it was gone.

So she reverted to her tongue, spitting out again, “You won’t get me on that horse, I promise you.”

“Annisa. Fine,” he acknowledged at last, drawing in a deep breath. With barely a pause, he motioned to Gilda, bringing her to his side while he took giant steps to his horse. Keeping Kali tucked under his arm, he drew out his rifle. “You take the horses to the rise over there and stay put,” he said to Gilda. “Do not return once you get to safety, no matter what this one says.” He sent Kali a sharp glare. “Do you understand?”

It was Gilda who nodded.

“Soka’pii,” he said to the other woman. “Now go.”

“No!” Kali wiggled, kicked, then wiggled some more until she found herself dropping free. She hit the ground with an oomph. But this was no deterrent to her. “Soaring Eagle, please,” she shouted, coming to her feet, “the wagon’s our only escape.”

“Are you batty? Look behind you.”

She did. In the heat of their escapades, she had failed to notice how close the danger was. Alas, if the dust in the air and the commotion all around them were an indicator, they had only a few moments left before…

“Come,” he said, and he swept Kali once more into his arms.

She glanced up at him, wide-eyed. “We’re not leaving?”

“No.”

“Then…you’re going to stay with me?” Awed, she couldn’t keep the relief from her tone. She added, “We’re going to die together?”

But his response was unusual. He grinned down at her. “Not if I can help it.”

This said, he darted forward, leaping up into the wagon seat so easily, he might have flown there. He deposited her in the back, saying, “Stay there, and take out your gun.”

She did as she was told, and as she did so, he raised his own rifle into the sky. “Now, when I give the word, fire a shot into the air and keep shooting until the cattle either stop, or go in another direction. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

The moment of truth had come. She could hear nothing; nothing but the thunder of beating hooves over the dry prairie dirt.

“Get ready,” he shouted. “We must allow your guide to get to the rise. She’s almost there. All right. On the count of three. One, two…three.”

They both fired at the same time. Again, another shot, then another.

Heart pumping, Kali held her breath. Were they going to make it? It seemed doubtful.

One moment. Two. Then it happened. A miracle. It had to be a miracle. The steers turned.

Kali sat still, shocked, speechless. She had been saved. Saved. And as she stared at the impossible, she was unable to move, say or do anything. It was odd. Poised for the worst, there was a strange feeling of being let down. But also within her was a stronger emotion. One of great relief.

Kali licked her lips, and in doing so realized there was more than prairie dust that clung to them. The memory of this man’s kiss remained there, too. She sent him a surreptitious glance.

He was breathing hard, the movement emphasizing the breadth of his chest, and Kali found it difficult to look away. All the same, she managed it, staring off in the same direction that he was.

It was another few moments before she was able to talk, and even then, all she could do was whisper, “It worked,” not thinking that he might hear her over the clamor of the pounding hooves.

But he did hear, and looking back at her, he brought her face around to him, placing a finger under her chin and tilting her face up toward him as he so very slowly bent close to her. And without another word being spoken between them, he kissed her, the touch of his lips over hers as sweet as a lazy midsummer day. “Of course it worked,” he murmured against her lips, his breath sweet, fresh and musky all at the same time. “It was not in my mind that we should perish here this day.” And then he did the unthinkable one more time; he kissed her as though he had every right to do so.

Perhaps it was because her senses were already so heightened. Or maybe it was because everything about him seemed right. All she knew was that, while her arms crept around him to circle his neck, she wanted more. More of him, more of this, more of…something… And she uttered, “Please.”

“Please what?” he asked, lifting his head only a fraction from hers.

She couldn’t say. In truth, she didn’t know the answer to that question herself. Indeed, the extent of her certainty was limited to this moment, restricted to the knowledge that she didn’t ever want to leave the comfort of Soaring Eagle’s arms. Was it possible that he could hold her like this forever?

Dumbfounded at her thoughts, she gulped, staring up at him. “Soaring Eagle,” she said, “I—I…”

She what?

Patiently he appeared to wait for her to finish whatever it was that was on her mind, but it was difficult for her to continue when she wasn’t sure of her intent herself.

However, she tried again. “Soaring Eagle, I—I seem to have…”

Again she stopped. Still he didn’t speak, though he did watch her with guarded eyes, as though he might like to read her thoughts—while holding his own close to him.

At last she tried again. “Soaring Eagle, I—I seem to have…” some feeling for you, she finished to herself. Some strange inclination that feels as though it is as deep, as entrenched and as vital as the very air that I breathe…

Aloud, she uttered, “I seem to have placed my life into the right hands, your very capable hands. I wouldn’t be here now if not for you. You’ve saved my life, as well as my camera, my wagon, my horses. I…” She couldn’t finish.

And he didn’t react; not in the least, not even to utter a word of acknowledgment. But he did reach up a hand to her, trailing the backs of his fingers down over her cheek.

At his touch, shock waves reverberated through her body, and she shut her eyes against the frenzy of raw hunger that washed over her. Dear Lord, she prayed, what was all this excitement? How could a mere graze from a man create such longing? Not knowing the answer—alas, little caring—she swooned in toward him, her body fitting up snugly against his.

She wouldn’t think. She needed this. She needed him, wanted him: his touch, his beingness, his attention. All of him.

Ah, she thought. This was surely love.

No! came the instantaneous rejoinder.

It couldn’t be love. Such a thing would be impossible. Why, the very thought of it was forbidden, for her, for him.

Still…

Mouth open, she gazed up at him with what probably amounted to shock, though she tried her best to hide any emotion from his watchful eyes.

She looked away, off into the distance. What she required was time; time and distance. Yes, that was it.

She needed to be alone, needed to sort this out analytically. After all, she had her entire life before her, her career, her ambition.

Still…

All at once, he seemed too close to her, and she to him. Could he read her thoughts? Would he realize what was happening to her?

Hoping she hadn’t presented him with the key to her heart written there on her sleeve, she scooted away from him, sighing when his arms dropped to his side. She said, “Thank you for what you have done, Soaring Eagle, but I’ll be fine now.” She glanced away from him. “I—I’m sorry if I have clung to you overly much.”

He must have sensed what was happening to her, for all he replied was, “No problem, ma’am,” as though nothing untoward had happened to them. He added, however, “I enjoyed it.”

And out of the corner of her eye, she saw his lips turn up in a half grin, a look that was as disturbing to her as his kiss had been a few moments earlier. He continued, saying, “I enjoyed myself very much. Just as I’ll be relishing your company all through the night tonight.”

That rather suggestive comment earned him a startled glance from her. “Tonight?”

“Unless you want to miss the Medicine Pipe ceremony.”

Kali knew her eyes must have popped open. “The Medicine Pipe ceremony? You’ll take me to it?”

She saw him glance skyward, watched him grimace before he said, “I guess so, ma’am. I guess so.”