Читать книгу Night Hawk's Bride - Jillian Hart - Страница 10

The wonder of Marie’s day remained even when the front door slammed open with the force of a bullet and rattled the windowpanes in the house.

“Marie Janelle, front and center this minute!” Henry’s voice filled the house like a cannon blast.

“No need to shout, Papa.” She laid the last sweater into place in the bureau draw and pushed it closed. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Now.”

“When I’m finished emptying this last trunk.”

She winced at the angry drum of his boots on the floor. Not even the thick wood ceiling between them could muffle it. There was no time like the present to start standing up to him and to change their relationship.

His footsteps punched up the stairs and knelled down the hallway. Marie took a deep breath and lifted the last of her sweaters from the bottom of her trunk.

“Good evening, Papa.” She crossed to the bevel-mirrored bureau. “It doesn’t sound as if you had a pleasant day.”

“Not when I discovered you coerced my sergeant into taking you from the settlement.”

“Coerced?” Marie saw her father’s reflection in the mirror behind her. Angry tension stiffened him like a well-seasoned board, and his face was ruddy. “I merely pointed out that I would find the way on foot if I had to. The stable master refused to allow me the use of a horse and buggy. Your instructions, he said.”

“I don’t want you running off, Marie. It’s unsafe.” Soldier-fierce, he clomped into the room, and yet when she looked again in the mirror, gray gathered at his temples and marked his beard. The fall of once jet-black hair over his brow had turned completely gray.

They’d lost so much time, she and Papa. So much time to be a family.

“Papa, I didn’t mean to be difficult.” She pushed in the drawer and faced him. “I know there’s a bear threatening settlers, but I had Sergeant James with me. He was armed—”

“A musket won’t always stop a raging bear. Everyone knows that.” Henry’s anger flared but beneath it lurked something else, something harder to discern.

Marie closed her trunk lid. “As you can see, nothing happened. You don’t need to be worried after the fact.”

“Worried?” Henry sounded surprised. “I’m furious that you’d disobeyed a direct order, Marie.”

“It wasn’t direct to me. I was furious because you broke another promise.”

“I’m a busy man.”

“You’re my father, not my commanding officer.” She yanked the empty trunk from her bed and set it with an angry thunk on the floor. “I bought my own horse today, so there’s no point in you rushing to find me the mare you promised.”

“My secretary was supposed to—”

She slid the trunk with force into place beneath the second window. Papa always had his excuses and she wouldn’t listen to them. She wanted more than excuses. She wanted more than his attempts to be her father—attempts lacking heart.

She settled the trunk into place with a final thud and straightened.

Henry merely looked angrier. “I brought you out here to help me with my work. There are children who need to learn. Both the settlers’ children and the Indian children have to be prepared for the changing world awaiting them. That is what I fight for every day. Bettering the lives of the civilians I defend.”

“That’s good and fine, and I admire your principles, Papa. I always have. But I came here because my father asked me to. My father.” She marched past him, losing her temper. “I’ll be downstairs.”

He followed her out into the hall. “Marie, Mrs. Olstad is putting supper on the table. You straighten up. I want you presentable in five minutes. Major Gerard is coming—”

Not wanting to hear more, Marie flew down the stairs and through the kitchen. Ignoring Mrs. Olstad’s disapproving frown, Marie dashed outside and shut the door behind her with enough force to echo up the stairwell. It wasn’t a slam, just a statement. She wasn’t going to settle for a colonel. Not when she wanted a father.

The evening was hot and humid when she stepped out onto the porch. Sunlight played through the tips of trees, casting long shadows. The wilderness outside the tall, stout fort walls beckoned her.

This was her adventure. She’d come to Fort Tye for several reasons. Being with her father was only one of them. There were children to teach, a new world to explore. And maybe—just maybe—a love to discover.

Night Hawk. The thought of him made her bones melt. A thrilling, shivery feeling rippled through her. How angry he’d made her when she’d thought he was like so many men she’d met—all looking for a wife they could command around like her father did his soldiers.

But she’d been wrong. A woman and a horse should be treated with respect, he’d said in that voice as deep as winter. Oh, he’d been playing with her, all right, and her heart warmed with the memory.

“Miss Lafayette.” A polite baritone broke into her thoughts. Major Gerard, hat in hand, strolled down the stone path, watching her with a curious gaze. “You look lovely this evening.”

“Thank you, Major.” Marie tucked her thoughts of Night Hawk aside for later, when she was alone. Right now she had Major Gerard to deal with. “I know my father is expecting you.”

“He was good enough to invite me.” The major climbed up the steps and stopped awkwardly, holding his hat, looking uncertain. “My name is Ned. Please, may I call you Marie?”

“Of course.” There was a lot to like about the kind officer who seemed boyishly shy as he attempted a nervous smile.

“Please, come in. My father would want you to be comfortable.” Marie led the way into the parlor. “What do you drink?”

“Your housekeeper is known to have cold tea on hand for a few of us who don’t partake.” He hung his hat on the coat tree before she could offer. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’m here so often. I report directly to your father. I oversee the training of the enlisted men.”

He was proud of his work and proud to work for her father. It was hard not to like him, but she didn’t want to give him the wrong impression. Likely as not, her father had already done enough of that. She offered Ned a seat before leaving him alone for the kitchen.

He thanked her and sat awkwardly in the upholstered wing chair near the front window.

Her temper was back, and she fought to stay calm. In the hot kitchen, she grabbed a glass from the hutch shelves. She’d come to change things between her and her father, not to have the same old battle over marrying her off.

“Marie! Leave that to Mrs. Olstad. Honestly.” Henry thundered into the kitchen. “I want you to make a good impression tonight. Ned Gerard is just the sort of man I want for you.”

“What sort is that?”

“A West Point graduate. Impeccable family name. You know I want only the best for my daughter.” Henry snatched a tomato wedge from Mrs. Olstad’s drain board. “I don’t want you to let this opportunity pass by. Living with your aunt has given you the idea that you can be happy as a spinster for the rest of your life.”

“I don’t want to be a spinster, Papa. Really.” She could be as stubborn as he could be. After all, she was his daughter.

Marie spotted a covered pitcher on the drain board and reached for it.

“Leave that to Mrs. Olstad, Marie. We can’t leave our guest waiting.”

“You go in alone, you old schemer.” Marie couldn’t summon up enough resentment to be truly angry. “I’m not going to marry him.”

“You don’t know that for certain. No one knows where love will take root. Or how it will grow.” Henry stole another tomato wedge from the worktable. “Don’t be long, Marie. For me.”

She began to protest but stopped at the sudden look of sadness in his eyes. It was a kind of sadness that she knew well. They hadn’t been close since she was a little girl. Could it be possible that he shared this same loneliness? This hurting ache for the bonds of family?

There was a limp to his step as he marched from the room. The sunlight slanting through the window burnished the gray in his hair.

Yes, it was time for a change between them. As long as he stopped trying to marry her to every West Point graduate he met.

A movement through the window caught her attention. A huge black dog slipped out of her sight on the other side of the picket fence. Night Hawk’s dog.

Night Hawk couldn’t be far. Her pulse soared. Her sadness drained away. Thinking of him and knowing he could be near sent a thrill through her that was brighter than the sun.

No one knows where love will take root. Or how it will grow, Henry had said. And he was right.

She dashed out the back door. The wind tangled her hair, and she wrestled it out of her eyes so she could see. Breathless with anticipation, she tripped down the steps and raced along the path to the gate.

But the lane was empty. There were no shadows, no dog and no dream man.

He had passed this way. She could feel it in a way she couldn’t explain. Seeing him again was only a matter of time.

Where was his will of steel? Night Hawk cursed himself as he drove the sickle through the waist-high grass. For the better part of two weeks, he’d thought of her. Every time he visited the fort to check on Devil’s injury. Each time Kammeo caught his gaze in the field. He hadn’t started working with the animal yet.

He was afraid that would make him dream of the woman more.

Fragrant stalks dropped to the mowed ground, and he swung again, taking down more grass. Sweat flew off his brow as he cut his way to the edge of the field. Winded, he leaned the blade against the fence and reached for the jug he’d left in the shade.

Cool water poured down his throat and he swallowed until it was gone. More sweat ran down his face and chest. He’d been up since three this morning making hay while the good weather held.

Meka’s low bark cut through the afternoon’s serenity. Night Hawk squinted into the sun and saw a figure crowning a low rise where earth and sun made illusion. There was a suggestion of a woman’s dark wavy hair and soft curves—Marie Lafayette.

Night Hawk cursed. Not even twelve straight hours of hard work could drive the colonel’s daughter from his mind. He grabbed his shirt off the fence’s top rail and slung it over his shoulder.

When he looked up, the illusion remained, with her long hair rippling, her green skirts swirling around her soft woman’s body—a body made for a man’s pleasure.

Want drummed in his blood.

Then Marie moved, dream became reality. She was breezing closer, bringing the sunlight with her. Meka barked again, and only a sharp command kept the dog from bounding over to greet their unwelcome guest.

Night Hawk hardened his heart. He had to send her back to the fort. It was the right thing to do—no, it was the only thing to do.

“I came to see Kammeo.” She stepped out of the sunbeams and offered him a shy smile. “Would you let me watch while you train her sometime?”

Night Hawk pulled on his shirt and drew it down over his sun-bronzed chest. “What are you doing out here on your own? It’s dangerous.”

“The bear was caught this morning. I’m perfectly safe.” She held out her hand to let the dog scent her. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.”

“You didn’t.” He snared the empty jug and then whistled to his dog, ordering Meka to heel. “Come, we’ll take you home.”

“I came to visit my mare. I didn’t see her in the pasture.” She lifted her skirts and breezed after him, her dainty feet hardly touching the ground. “I came through the woods along the lakeshore. I’ve never taken such a beautiful walk.”

Every step she took beat through him. Why? Why was his physical reaction to this woman so turbulent?

“The sunlight sparkled on the lake,” she continued, “and the woods were enchanting, like something out of a fairy tale. I’ve never been in such a wild place.”

She was beauty, the finest he’d ever seen and far more enchanting than this tiny piece of the world. “You’re not afraid of the wilderness?”

“Afraid? It’s amazing. Except for the meadows and the lake, and the farmers’ fields of course, the trees go on forever. I’ve never been serenaded to sleep by wolves.”

“Wait until you hear the cougars.”

“They’re musical, too?”

“Let’s just say the sound might make you miss the quiet back home.” Merriment twinkled a little in his dark eyes.

“Between the birds that hunt at night, the bugs that chirp and sound like they’re the size of bears in the dark and the wolves braying, I’m sleeping blissfully.”

“I bet you are.” Night Hawk unlatched the wooden gate and stood there, laugh lines crinkling around his eyes. “It’s quieter in the city.”

“Astonishingly.”

He held the gate open for her. Her skin tingled as she swept past him. Maybe it was because she remembered seeing his bronzed chest, bare and glistening at the sun’s touch. Or maybe it was the man.

While he latched the gate, the big black dog bounded toward her, tongue lolling and sharp teeth bared in a doggy smile.

“Meka! Sit,” Night Hawk ordered.

The dog launched into the air and placed his front paws on Marie’s shoulders. His tongue swiped across her chin in a friendly greeting, and delight filled her. She couldn’t resist hugging him. “I never had a dog when I was growing up.”

“Down, Meka.” Night Hawk snapped his fingers and strode close enough to cast her in his shadow.

The dog swiped his tongue across her knuckles and then obeyed. “He’s a ferocious one, I can tell.”

“And he doesn’t like strangers.” Night Hawk quirked one dark brow and his mouth narrowed as if he were trying not to laugh. “Especially women.”

“I can tell. He’s also the smallest dog I’ve ever seen.”

“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, upstanding 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.