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THE GALLOWAY HOME WAS CLOSE to the banks of the Little Miami River. It was here that Eben finally stopped, and turned to face his charge. The moon above was high and full and a delightful shade of yellow-orange—a Harvest Moon. It was beautiful, reflected as it was on the dark, rippling surface of the water. Eben took it all in, longing to tell Raven that the beauty of the night paled in comparison to her own vibrant beauty. Yet, if the look on her face were any indication, there would be no soft words between them this evening.
She wrenched her wrist from his grasp and glared at him. “Well, you succeeded in dragging me out here. Now, what do you want?”
“To talk, away from the others,” Eben said. He wasn’t quite sure exactly how to put his thoughts into words, so he seized upon the first thing that came to mind. “There’s something that has been preying upon my mind, since that first night when I awoke, and we need to have it out between us.
He sounded very grave, and Raven wondered what he meant. “Is this what keeps you awake at night?”
She saw him frown. He’d been unaware until now that while he tossed and turned upon the Galloways’ bed, that she also lay sleepless. One night, he had even sighed her name aloud. She’d done her best to ignore it, but it had eaten away at her. She’d longed in that moment to understand what he was thinking, feeling.
“Aye,” he replied. “At least in part. But truth to tell, it was something Elizabeth said that has kept me sleepless. Her remarks set me to thinking, and you’re the only one who can restore my peace of mind.”
His frown deepened, and a tick worked in his cheek. Raven looked up into that dark, frowning visage and imagined all sorts of things. He was thinking of leaving her here with the Galloways, instead of taking her to Pittsburgh! And though she had not wished to go with him in the first place, she also didn’t want to stay here. Elizabeth and James were kind to her,
but they had a sizeable brood to think about, and they were not her family. She did not belong here. Had Eben guessed her thoughts, he likely would have informed her that neither did she belong with him—and he would be right. It seemed she did not belong anywhere.
Cursing low, he forced out the words. “She said you cared for me, Raven. In fact, she assured me that you loved me. Is this true?”
Raven caught her breath and held it, unsure how to answer. She’d been forced to admit to herself that her feelings for him were changing, but did she love him? Did she even know what love was? It was hard to say anything when she herself didn’t know how she felt about him. Oh, she liked him well enough, as long as she ignored his many faults, and his kisses set her heart to racing and made her knees feel weak. But that was hardly love, and certainly nothing she could admit to him without having him hold it over her head like a cudgel all the way to Pittsburgh.
Eben took her silence for bewilderment. “Of course, I knew she must be mistaken. She came to that conclusion because you played your part so well. That’s all it was—right?” He hoped he didn’t sound as anxious as he felt. To his utter shock and dismay, he’d found the game they’d been playing rather satisfying. He’d had all but one of the benefits of claiming her as his own, without the restrictions of wedlock. And of course, that one benefit he lacked was the one he wanted most of all.
It was surprising, how warm his heart grew, when he thought of her welcoming him into her bed, of how loath he was to consider giving her into the keeping of another man. Yet, he would not ask her to share his life of struggle. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to. In fact, he was not very sure of anything.
And, as always, Ivory lurked, spiderlike, in the back of his mind—and with her, all of the pain of her betrayal. He doubted it would ever go away completely, this suspicion he felt for all women. The faithless bitch had ruined him for a normal life, with a wife, and children. The kind of life that men like James were blessed with.
“Elizabeth was mistaken,” she finally said. “How could I love you? Why, I barely know you. Do not think about this again. There’s nothing to be gained by it, and no reason for your concern.” She turned and walked along the riverbank, stopping beneath the gnarled limbs of a very old oak tree.
Here, the moonlight could not penetrate, and she was cast completely in shadow.
It was dark, and safe. Was that after all what she intended?
Eben followed her and stood very close, wondering why he felt disappointed, when he should have been relieved. “So, she was dead wrong,” he said, feeling a sudden need to beleaguer the point, in case he had missed some subtle clue as to what was happening here.
“I was afraid for you, is all,” she said, shrugging. “If you die, what shall become of me? How shall I get to Pittsburgh, and how shall I find this glorious husband you are always railing about?”
The shining bubble in his chest popped and he drifted slowly back to earth. His mood plummeted. At last, the relief he had anticipated. It should have felt better than it did. “Good. Aye. This is a good thing. I would hate to see you get your feelings all tangled up with me. I’m not a man who is well suited to rules and restrictions, Raven. I would make a terrible husband.”
She snorted her derision. “Well, lay your fears to rest, m’sieur, for in all truth, I wouldn’t want you. If I must have a husband, then it certainly would not be you. You are too stubborn, too thick-headed, too arrogant, too full of yourself, too—”
“There’s no need to continue, lass. I got the point.” “Besides, I picture this husband of mine as being taller.” “Taller?” he said, bemused.
“Yes, much taller.”
He reached out and grabbed her arm. “Say again? You think I am not man enough for you?”
She laughed lightly. “I did not say that—exactly.”
“Then, what did you say? Exactly? For that is what I heard.” He drew her closer, and far from being angry, a smile hovered around the corners of his hard mouth. “You have pointed out my faults. Perhaps you’d like to name my virtues?”
She thought for a moment. Then, for a moment more. “Don’t hold back,” he said. “Tell me what you really
think.”
“You seem fairly good at reading sign, from what I have observed, and you make a passable cup of coffee.”
He laughed. “That’s it? You saucy bitch. I have a few more attributes than you’re willing to allow me.”
“You do?” she said sweetly. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“For example, I can kiss your lips and make your nipples jealous.”
“Oh, you flatter yourself!”
“And that’s not all, my sweet. When I finally relent and give all of my attention to your nipples, your legs will long to wrap around me. Resistance is futile. You might as well let them have their way with me.” He cupped her chin in his hand and bent to briefly kiss her lips, his voice going throaty. “Admit it, sweetheart. Your body loves me, even if your brain does not.”
“You are such an egotistical ass,” she said.
Eben raised one devilish brow. “You don’t believe me?
Then, I guess I’ll have to prove it to you.”
His head came swiftly down and before Raven had a chance to protest, he covered her mouth with his. This time she was not shocked by the sweet invasion of his tongue. She welcomed it. His injured arm was free from the sling, so there was nothing to separate them, nothing to prevent her from fitting her body perfectly against his. She reveled in the tension in his muscles, the sudden ragged intake of his breath,
the way he crushed her in his hard embrace, deepening the kiss immeasurably.
That kiss was long and intensely passionate. It went on and on, and their entwined tongues conjured up images of other, even more erotic joinings. Raven remained uninitiated in the intricacies of sexual union, but she had glimpsed such acts in nature, and she had a vivid imagination. The heat and the hardness of his male body pressing close to hers left little doubt as to what he wanted, yet he did not pressure her to allow him any other liberties, and seemed content to ravish her mouth completely.
Kissing was wonderful, and much to her liking, but her body yearned to be even closer to him. Her breasts ached, and her nipples hardened, but the buckskin shirt was as protective as armor, and her wanting continued; the pressure inside her built. She pulled back just a little, far enough to bring her hands between them. Then, she found his belt, and loosed his shirt so that it fell open. Hers came next, and in just an instant, she was in his rough embrace again.
She fitted perfectly against him, breast to pectoral muscles, skin against skin. He was hot to the touch, an adept seducer, and it was not enough. Pulling back, she strained on tiptoes, urging his head to her breast and gasping in shocked delight at the searing sensation of heat as finally he claimed his prize.
He worked her sensitive flesh, testing it lightly with his teeth. A jolt of ecstasy blossomed in her midsection and quickly shot down, pooling red-hot in the pit of her belly. Powerless to do otherwise, she bent one knee, wrapping that leg around his hips—and in that second, he left off his sexual play and straightened to his full height to grin wolfishly down at her. “Egotistical, am I?”
His laughter was like a hurried dip in an icy creek. It cooled her passions instantly. She righted her shirt, covering her bare breasts, cinching the belt securely. Her movements were jerky with rising anger, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment at being caught up in his silly ruse. “You base scoundrel,” she accused, making him laugh all the harder. “You seducer of defenseless women!”
He threw back his tawny head and howled. “Defenseless?” he said. “You? Oh, come now. There is nothing defenseless about you, and I’ve the scars to prove it.”
Another truth she could not dispute, so she put out her tongue in pique. “How dare you make me want you!”
His laughter faded. He wiped the tears from his tanned cheek with the back of one hand. They were still standing within a foot of one another. Now, he leaned closer. “You did want me. Isn’t that right, my little cat? You wanted me inside you, possessing you, enflaming your senses. Mmm,” he said low, a predatory smile touching his mouth. “Makes me hot and hard just thinking of it. What of you, sweetheart? Does your blood boil? Do you crave sweet release, even when you curse me?” Just a little closer. His lids lowered. He looked deviant, and wicked, and all knowing, and yes, she wanted him still. “We can finish what we started. Just say the word. I’ll make you cry out my name, and beg me to sate you.”
In a rare flash of clarity, Raven saw her future should she give in and accept what he was offering. A moment of unbearable pleasure in exchange for a lifetime of shame. She thought of her papa, and all that he had taught her. He had not fought so hard to see her safe in order for her to fall from grace. At the moment, she had little by way of possessions, but she had her self-respect. She calmed down by degrees, finding her voice. “Yes, I want you,” she said softly. “Call it weakness. I want you, but not this way, and I would rather die a virgin than to do what you suggest.”
Gathering her dignity around her, she set out for the house, leaving him to follow at his own pace.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, TECUMSEH CAME.
It was early and the family had yet to finish breakfast. All were gathered round the large table in the kitchen, and the conversation hummed. Childish voices jangled pleasantly as the children teased each other, provoking Elizabeth to intervene. James spoke with Eben about the price of horseflesh, and only Raven was quiet. As a consequence of her thoughtful mood, she was the first to notice the tall chieftain,
who had stopped in the open doorway, and stood quietly waiting.
It was not her place to welcome him; nevertheless, Raven got up and went to him. This man had spared Eben’s life, as well as her own, and she was grateful.
“Little Sister, I see that your husband is well now,” he said, looking down at her.
“Yes, he is well, and for that I owe you many thanks. If you had not come that day—”
“Had I not arrived when I did, my brother, Tenskwatawa would likely be dead now. Tenskwatawa is more ready with words than competent in battle, or defense. Talk is his only strength, I fear, and it does little to outweigh his weakness.”
“I was but protecting my husband,” Raven insisted, keenly aware that Eben watched the exchange intently, and was taking in every word.
Before long, he came out of his chair, and joined them. He took a place by Raven’s side, and inclined his head slightly to acknowledge the tall Shawnee. Respectful, but not submissive. “It seems I owe you a debt, though until this moment, I had no idea as to what extent.”
Raven said nothing.
“I did nothing but defend my men from your woman. She is unafraid in the face of great peril, and brings honor to your name. I trust that she will bless your house with strong sons and beautiful daughters as well. You are most fortunate in your choices.”
James came forward to greet his guest, inviting him to breakfast, and the remainder of the meal passed without incident, but Raven often felt Eben’s pale eyes on her. It was almost as if he were seeing her for the first time, and it made her very nervous. When the meal was over and the men went out, she breathed a sigh of relief.
ALL THROUGH THAT EVENING, RAVEN brooded
about the moonlight tryst she’d had with Eben the night before. His audacity scalded her, and she was still very angry.
Only a self-center boor would attempt to seduce her, still fully intending to pass her off as another man’s bride, like a pair of slightly worn stockings. And he seemed to think that she would be a willing participant in his deviant scheme. He was a fool if he thought that he knew her at all!
She thought about it a lot, and the more she thought, the angrier she became. Sitting as far away from Eben as she could manage without leaving the room, she pretended to watch Elizabeth at her needlework. Her fingers methodically shoved the needle through the layers of the quilt, retrieved it, then shoved it through again. Her accuracy was stunning, the end result beautiful, yet as Raven watched the flash of the sharp instrument in the candlelight, all she could think of was snatching it from the woman’s hand and sinking it deep into Eben’s stubborn hide.
Elizabeth must have noticed her threatening scowl, for she raised her eyes to Raven’s face often, and each time she did, her own expression darkened. The matriarch of the Galloway family was observant, and she must have noticed that the tension between the two of them had increased instead of lessening. Raven longed to explain, yet there was no way out of the lies they’d told. It was an uncomfortable situation that would ease only with their departure from this place the next morning.
Finally, Elizabeth set aside her hoop. “Raven, would you come with me, please?” She picked up a candle and led the way from the room and up the stairs.
Raven got up, and with a final glance at her guardian, followed.
At the top of the stairs was a hallway. Set high in the wall was a small window, and under the window, a camel-backed trunk. The matron handed the candle to Raven, then knelt before the trunk, lifting the lid.
“Every woman should be able to bring something pretty into her marriage. Now, I don’t know a great deal about your circumstances, and won’t pry, but I can see that with your young man, you have a rough row to hoe, so I hope that you
will let me give you this.” She lifted a quilt from the trunk and spread it out so that Raven could see it. The cream-colored background made the perfect backdrop for the vivid embroidery. Running stags, and oak leaves were alternating on each block in vivid scarlet and gold.
Raven’s free hand went to her heart. “It’s so pretty, Elizabeth, and I thank you, but I cannot accept it.”
“Of course you can, child! It’s for your marriage bed.”
A painful lump formed in Raven’s throat. How could she tell this generous wife and mother that there would be no marriage bed for her—at least, not with Eben? She would be forced to marry some doddering old fool, without so much as a single thought given to her dreams and desires. At least, she would if Eben had his way. She tried to form an articulate reply of some sort around the lump, but the words refused to come, and finally, she fled down the stairs and out of the house.
Eben saw her take flight, but after last night, was bemused as to his best course of action. Seduce her he could, but he couldn’t seem to reason with her, and the first course of action would only bring more trouble to both of them. They might both be better off if he left her alone—though it was not at all what he wanted.
Elizabeth came down the stairs a little more sedately and stood with a quilt folded over her arm, watching Eben. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go on, man. Go after her.”
By the time he found her, she was dry-eyed. Standing on the banks of the river, she stood staring out over the water and shivering. She refused to look at him. It was no more than he deserved. He knew he should apologize for taunting her so, but after several minutes of diligent searching, he could not find the words. “It’s a cold night for a swim, don’t you think?”
“Ample reason for you to keep your distance. I am in no mood to be baited.”
He held his hands out, palms toward her, a gesture of surrender. “I just came to make sure you were all right.” He
paused. “Are you?”
“I needed a few minutes alone!” she shot back. “Is there anything wrong with that?”
“I suppose not. Unless you are shivering with cold.”
She shrugged. She had no cape for warmth, no other clothes except for the ones on her back, but she wasn’t about to remind him of it. He would only think she was making demands upon him.
“What did Elizabeth say to upset you?” he asked, unfolding the quilt the woman had thrust into his hands as he went out. “Does it have something to do with this?” He draped it round her slim shoulders, watching as she hesitated, then clutched it close to her breasts.
Now, tears did come. They slipped silently over her lower lashes and ran down her cheeks. “It is meant for a marriage bed, Eben. Our marriage bed. Oh, God,” she said, swiping angrily at the moisture on her face. “We never should have lied to them!”
“I agree, but it’s too late to rectify it.” He sighed. “I suppose there is only one thing for us to do.”
“Do tell, m’sieur. How in God’s name do we fix this mess we’re in?”
“We thank her together,” he said quietly, “and when we reach Pittsburgh you can fold it away for your real marriage bed.” He stepped close and put his arms around her. Her back was pressed intimately against his chest. He sighed against her hair. It was selfish of him to want her, yet he could not seem to help himself. “My little cat,” he said. “It will all turn out for the best in the end.”
“Why do you insist on calling me that?” she said impatiently.
“Because you are all teeth and claws, spitting and hissing, and arching your back. And because it amuses me to do so.”
“Men do not even like cats.”
“Aye, perhaps, but I am not most men.” He brushed back her hair and pressed a light kiss on her temple. “Do you want to know why men don’t like cats, sweetheart?”
“I suppose that you will tell me, anyway,” she said, her voice losing some of its edge, “so you may as well get on with it.”
“Men like to feel strong and in control, capable of protecting everything in their world: their children, their women, their livestock—and along comes the cat. And a more independent, scathing creature never lived. She hunts her own food, and only comes to be petted when it gratifies her to do so. She is never at anyone’s beck and call. And a man suddenly feels resentful, mistrustful of her haughty air. That is why men don’t like cats.”
“You think me haughty?” she asked, turning a little to watch him.
“Most definitely, though in a most charming fashion. Are you ready to go back?”
She shook her head. “I wish I did not have to face them again. It hurts, seeing them so happy, sharing their lives together, and knowing I will never have that kind of love.” She hesitated. “I’m envious.”
Eben sighed. “Raven, there is no reason you can’t have love in your life. After you are married, love can grow—it often happens that way.”
She pushed him, then, hard enough to break free of his embrace. “Oh, shut up! I don’t want to hear what you have to say about it! You think you can arrange my life to suit you, and I am sick to death of your infernal meddling!” With that, she turned and fled, leaving Eben to wonder just what he had said to anger her. He’d been trying hard to be tactful, but it seemed nothing worked where she was concerned.
