Comanche Eagle Read online

  The brilliant orange flames were bright against the black clouds, billowing and growing, inching closer to the cabin.

  Travis had shed his shirt and worked in a steady rhythm, beating flames, muscles rippling in his back. She dipped a sack into the water, turning to beat at the flames, when she heard a hissing sound.

  Beyond the line of fire a sheet of gray rain and white bits of ice pounded the earth. Her heart leaped with relief. Rain!

  “Rain!” A jubilant cry from Travis echoed her thoughts. He flung the wet sack in the air. “Run!”

  She raced for the house, trying to hold up her skirts as the hissing changed to a roar. She covered her head with her arms when stinging pellets of hail stung her.

  Strong arms swept her up, wrapping around her. She was pulled close against Travis’s broad chest and she wrapped her arm around his neck, clinging to him and turning her face and upper body against his bare chest. She knew he was protecting her from the hail, but the reason was of little consequence compared to the feelings that raced through her.

  Tiny shocks were more disturbing to her system than the storm pouring over them. It was the first time she had ever been held in a man’s arms, and she liked it. She was aware of the solid beat of his heart, his masculine scent, the warmth of his body.

  All her life she had had to take care of others, to take care of herself, but for this brief moment she felt protected and cared for. He had no love for her, but he was considerate and his care set her heart racing. She liked being in his arms, and she savored the feeling of closeness. His chest was solid, hard, feeling so good against her.

  Never before had she been as aware of a man or as tingly around one. And it went deeper than that. When he married her, she had seen only a wild, angry and strong-willed man. But in the days since they had said their vows, she had seen that he had a kind and gentle side. He could be protective, generous to Zachary, loving with his son. Yet along with his kind side, he had a forcefulness that she found exhilarating. All her life she had been surrounded by weak men—her father, her grandfather, Ellery. This man was strong, decisive, powerful—a challenge and a temptation at the same time.

  Long ago she had decided she would never know a man’s love and she had felt she would have a fulfilling life anyway; but now during the wild storm as Black Eagle raced toward the house with her held close in his arms, a longing for more blossomed within her.

  He leapt to the porch and set her on her feet, laughing as Zachary and Turtle River ran past to get the horses to take them to the animal shed.

  She looked up at Black Eagle and shock riveted her. The man could laugh! Laughter transformed him from the solemn, angry man she had always known to a man whose white teeth were a bright contrast to his dark skin and whose brown eyes sparkled with triumph. He was handsome and she stared transfixed, her body still feeling the warmth of his, her memory still fresh with how it felt to be carried in his strong arms.

  He had a tiny cut on his cheek where a hailstone must have struck his cheekbone. She reached up and lightly wiped away blood. “You’re cut,” she said, conscious of brushing her fingers against his face.

  “It’s nothing,” he replied, giving his cheek a swipe with his hand. He knelt beside the cradle, his wet denim pants pulling tautly and molding his muscled legs. “Look at him sleeping through it all!” he said, laughing at his son. All she could do was stare at the father.

  Don’t fall in love with him.

  The words came out of the air, startling her, popping into her mind; and instantly she gave a shake of her head as if she were arguing with herself. The notion was ridiculous; why was her heart racing madly?

  How in heaven’s name, in the space of minutes, had she gone from a woman knowing her own mind to one who no longer knew her own heart? Black Eagle faced her, placing his hands on his hips, and it took all her self-will to keep from letting her gaze drift down over his bare chest.

  “Thankfully, we were close in when you fired the shots.” He draped his arm across her shoulders and turned to look at the blackened circle of burned grass. “What happened?”

  “Summer lightning,” she said. Although she understood that he thought nothing of draping his arm around her, she was acutely aware of standing close enough to him to feel the heat of his body and she was conscious of his strong arm across her shoulders. The realization that she wanted to move closer to him frightened her. Feelings she had never known before were beginning to stir inside her, and curiosity and a desire that she had never experienced disturbed her. When she moved away, he dropped his arm to his side.

  “Thank heaven the rain came. I’m surprised the fire went so fast,” she remarked, barely aware of her words, too conscious of him.

  “The grass was dry out there. The house would have been in the fire’s path. As it is, the patch of burned ground will be covered by new growth in no time … especially with this rain.” He ran his fingers through his hair, sweeping the long black hair sleekly away from his face and changing his appearance again. With his hair pulled back, his prominent cheekbones stood out starkly, his nose had just enough crook to give him an air of arrogance. She could imagine him as a warrior with streaks of paint on his face and a lance in his hand. Now he looked fully the dominant, determined male she had clashed with too often.

  He gazed at her solemnly. “If there’s ever a fire again, you take my son and get him out of here.”

  “When it got closer, I was going to go.”

  “You might not judge correctly. You go,” he said with a firm stare. “But you were a big help this afternoon, Judge,” he added quietly.

  His praise fueled satisfaction in her. When his brown eyes swept over her, she knew she looked like a bedraggled, half-drowned rat. It really didn’t matter how she looked; he wouldn’t care. She suspected he didn’t even really see her, and the knowledge hurt.

  “This may settle into a long night of rain, and God knows, we need it desperately. I’ll head out to see about the horses.” He jumped off the porch and ran to the shed. She watched his long stride cover the ground swiftly. Why hadn’t he returned to his own people? He looked like that was where he belonged. She thought of the shield she had found in his cabinet. If he saved a shield and a headdress, then his past was important to him. Why had he chosen the white man’s life?

  Now, bare-chested, with his black hair flying as he ran, he looked like a fierce warrior. She remembered the powerful muscles in his back as he swung the sack, beating flames. He was a magnificent specimen of manhood, virile and powerful. Her memory shifted with startling clarity to how it felt to be carried in his arms.

  She went inside and threw open her trunk, rummaging through the belongings she had not unpacked. She found a small mahogany-framed oval mirror that she pulled out and held up, looking at herself. Her face was smudged with black streaks, and locks of wet hair hung around her face. She looked soggy; but in her best moments, she would never look like his Elizabeth, who had been breathtakingly beautiful.

  Setting aside the mirror, Crystal unbuttoned the wet dress and stepped out of it to dry and change to a cotton dress with a white bodice and a black skirt.

  That night she cooked more stew because she was less likely to burn it. While a light rain came down steadily, the thick stew bubbled away in a pot on the stove.

  All three men came to eat, and for the first time, Travis seemed less tense and withdrawn. And she was more aware of him than ever, conscious every time his solemn gaze rested on her. The men played with the baby and while they ate, talked about the fire and the rain and the new calves. As always Zachary told her how wonderful the supper was.

  It amazed her to watch both Black Eagle and Turtle River around Jacob. Black Eagle became tender, caring, laughing with his son, fascinated by the baby. It surprised her that he had a gentle side. Turtle River was even more amazing. The stoic Indian was as giddy as a new father, babbling with Jacob, talking to him about hunting, telling tales the infant could not possibly understand. Zachary,
who was as friendly as a puppy, was the least interested in Jacob, but she guessed it was not unusual for a young male to have little interest in a baby. With his back healing, Zachary worked now as long as the other men. His brown hair was slicked down and parted in the center, but sprigs of hair stood up in the crown. His skin had grown darker with the past days of working in the sunshine.

  When she stood to clean, Zachary moved to her side swiftly, taking dishes from her hands. “Let me help you, Judge.”

  “Zachary, just call me Crystal.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, smiling. He helped while Turtle River and Black Eagle went outside, taking Jacob with them.

  Once the dishes were washed and dried, Crystal was done with evening chores and Zachary motioned toward the piano.

  “Play something, Crystal. I want to hear you play.”

  She went to the piano that she hadn’t touched since Ellery’s death. She sat on the stool and uncovered the keyboard, striking a chord and then playing an old familiar hymn. To her delight Zachary began to sing, his tenor voice carrying, and she joined him as they went from one song to another and she wondered about Black Eagle, who sat on the darkened porch with Turtle River and Jacob.

  Eventually he came inside, carrying the cradle and setting Jacob down. In her peripheral vision she could see Black Eagle standing and watching her. Then he disappeared, and she heard him moving around.

  “I’d better be going, Crystal,” Zachary said. “Turtle River must have gone already.”

  “It was fun, Zachary. I haven’t played in a long time.”

  “Yes, ma’am. It was fun,” he said, gazing at her so intently Crystal was startled. He had pulled a chair close and she slid off the stool and moved away.

  “Night, ma’am,” Zachary said quietly and then left.

  She closed the piano and looked around, half-expecting to find Black Eagle gone as usual, but the rain must have driven him inside. He was stretched on the bed, still dressed, and he had fallen asleep as she had the past nights. She looked down at him. Even in sleep he looked masculine and powerful, and all her fluttery feelings returned.

  Curious, she moved closer, studying him with a slow thoroughness that she could never do when he was awake. His lips were well-sculpted, his lower lip full. She studied his mouth, her own lips tingling while questions swirled. The only kisses she had ever known were Harvey Goodwill’s, and she suspected Travis Black Eagle’s kisses would be vastly different. Hot and disturbed, she stared at Black Eagle’s mouth, imagining the feel of it against her own, and she suspected it would be nothing like the kisses from Harvey that she never wanted to recall.

  Another deep pang of longing swept her like the one she had experienced in Black Eagle’s arms in the afternoon. When there had been no man in her life, she hadn’t given it much thought; but now, with a vital, forceful man with her daily, she was conscious of what she was missing. She reminded herself she should be thankful for what she had with Black Eagle. If he hadn’t come along, she would be alone and facing immediate payment of Ellery’s debts.

  Reluctantly, she faced the stark fact that she was locked into a loveless marriage and she would never know a man’s love and kisses and care. There never had been a man who had loved her, she reminded herself. It wasn’t as if she had given up her chance for happiness with this marriage.

  She knew she should move away and not stand staring at him, but she was fascinated. His chiseled features were exotic to her, so different from the men she had known. His deep-brown skin was smooth over prominent cheekbones. The dark fringe of lashes shadowed his cheeks. He had the faint line of a scar along his temple and his dark brows were straight. His chest was bare and her body tensed and heated more as she let her gaze stray slowly over the powerful muscles, and dark nipples, down over his flat stomach to the wide belt and the tight denim pants that hugged his narrow hips. His hipbones pushed against the denim, and the worn fabric bulged over his maleness. She flushed as her gaze rushed back to his face.

  She had to admit that she was physically drawn to him, but she reminded herself sternly that he was not drawn to her, nor would he ever be.

  How long she stood staring at him, she didn’t know, but Jacob stirred and she went to change and feed him. When Jacob finally went back to sleep, she stared at the bed. Exhaustion filled her, but she didn’t want to climb into bed beside Black Eagle. The mere thought made her nervous. At the same time, she didn’t want to spend the night in a chair and she knew he would think she was incredibly foolish if she did so.

  Reluctantly, she went to the opposite side of the bed and lay down, staying fully dressed. When she leaned forward to extinguish the lamp, she glanced at him one more time. The glow from the yellow flame gave burnished highlights to his skin. Remembering him carrying her in his strong arms, she put out the lamp.

  Every inch of her skin prickled with awareness that he was stretched out only inches away. She closed her eyes, listening to the rain but thinking of Black Eagle, hearing his quiet, deep breathing, trying to avoid staring at him more.

  Why did he have such an intense effect on her? Never had she been so conscious of a man or of herself around a man. How long before she grew accustomed to him and lost all her jittery awareness? And what would happen if she did love him? He would never love her in return. She would open herself to hurt. She turned on her side with her back to him, but her skin still prickled and she was as conscious of him as ever. And she vowed to guard against letting her affection for him grow, because her love would never be returned.

  Tomorrow was Friday, her day in court, and as they had done the week before, Travis would take her, taking Jacob with him to the livery stable. For once, she didn’t look forward as eagerly to the court day because it meant being away from Jacob. All the same, she loved her work, and it was only one day out of the week. As she left the house she carried Jacob. Her hair was braided and rolled into a bun behind her head and she wore a black bonnet that she was certain did little to help her appearance. She could still hear her grandmother’s voice telling her, “You are a plain woman, Crystal, so you should learn to take care of yourself and use your mind.”

  What would Grandmother say if she knew about this marriage? She would probably be horrified that Crystal had married what Grandmother Spencer would call a savage.

  Travis stood waiting beside the wagon, and even though she knew it was foolish, she felt nervous under his scrutiny. Beneath a wide-brimmed black hat his dark hair was pulled behind his head and tied with a strip of rawhide, and he wore a black shirt and black denim pants. He looked formidable and handsome while she felt hot in her black dress and as plain as a mud hen. Until the past couple of days, she had not thought of the man as handsome. Overwhelming, yes. Powerful, yes. But handsome? When had her reaction to him shifted and why did her heart race every time he was nearby?

  He had a holster buckled around his hips, and she thought of Ellery and the dangers between here and town. Riding beside Travis Black Eagle, she would feel no fear for her safety or for Jacob’s safety.

  The day Black Eagle had proposed he had been wearing black, and all she had been able to think of was a devil of a man; but now she no longer thought of him that way. Too conscious of his gaze on her, she hurried her step. When she looked directly into his chocolate-colored eyes, her fluttery feelings deepened.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” she said perfunctorily, uneasy in the silence. “If you’ll hold Jacob, I’ll climb into the wagon.”

  Instead, Black Eagle swept Crystal up in his arms and swung her up onto the wagon seat easily. Time stopped. She was aware of being in his arms again; aware of how easily he could carry her; conscious of his warm, strong body, his face only inches from hers … his clean, male scent. Then he placed her on the seat and released her. He went around and climbed up to sit beside her.

  Flustered, she looked at the cooing infant, smoothing black curls from his face. With a creak of wheels, the wagon began to move.

  “You think
you can tend him while you work?” she asked, concerned about the baby at a livery stable with only men to watch him. “Perhaps on my court days we should get a nurse.”

  “There are no nursemaids to hire,” Black Eagle replied bluntly; and she realized if there had been, he would not have proposed marriage to her. Crystal was aware of him seated close beside her, his booted feet propped up on the wagon and her skirt against his long leg. “I’ll take good care of him,” Black Eagle added, amusement in his voice, and she was embarrassed that she had implied she was afraid he couldn’t. She looked at Jacob, who stared back at her. He had won her heart so swiftly. Such a tiny person, yet he was already more important to her than anyone else.

  As they rode away from the log house, she glanced back, thinking how her life had changed. She had dreaded coming to live here, been terrified of the responsibility of a baby, defiant toward and frightened of her new husband. Now, in such a short time, how different she had come to feel about the union! She loved Jacob fiercely and she was no longer alone. She would repay Travis Black Eagle every cent, but she was free of debt to the bank and to the men Ellery had owed.

  Out of the corner of her eye she looked at the tall man beside her. He sat straight, staring in the distance. Had he been this quiet and uncommunicative with Elizabeth? Crystal doubted it. She remembered the moments yesterday when he was filled with easy laughter, jubilant over the rain. Charm had radiated from him like rays from the sun … briefly.

  “Are you Shoshone or Cheyenne?” she asked, her curiosity about him running rampant. She had heard of Shoshone, Arapaho, Bannock, Cheyenne, and Sioux, although most Indians Ellery had talked about had been Cheyenne or Shoshone.

  “Comanche.”

  Puzzled she rolled the foreign word on her tongue. “I have never heard of the Comanche.”