Night Hawk'S Bride (Tyler) (Harlequin Historical Series, No 558) Page 13
“Oh, Miss Lafayette!” Overcome, Morning Star could say no more. She turned and ran to show her mother the treasured books.
Night Hawk closed the distance between him and Marie. Perched on her horse and with her skirt hem fluttering in the wind, she looked out of his reach.
When she saw him, her face lit with happiness.
“Morning Star will enjoy your gift of the books.” He met her gaze and held it.
She paled. The kindness, like a light in her eyes, remained. “She’s one of my best students. The top of her class.”
“Spring Rain will like knowing that.” It felt awkward talking like this with an audience when private words needed to be said. “If your sergeant will allow it, I will see you safely back to the fort.”
“Sergeant Pierce?” She turned to address the silent soldier, who was already shaking his head.
“I’m under strict orders, ma’am.”
Marie winced. Night Hawk did not need to ask by whose orders. Colonel Lafayette would make sure his daughter was protected from hungry cougars or unsuitable lovers.
“It’s all right, Marie,” he said when it wasn’t.
“I’ve been wanting to talk with you,” she said quietly.
“Have you spoken with Henry?”
He could read the answer in her eyes. She hadn’t. He was afraid he knew why. And then, maybe he didn’t. If his father were alive, wouldn’t he try to find a way to keep a relationship with him? What would he do in Marie’s place?
Her love for him shone in her eyes, brighter than a thousand suns and he couldn’t mistake it. Just as he could not mistake the unhappiness drawing small lines into the soft skin around her eyes and mouth.
Lines made by him. He’d put the mark of sadness on her face. It humbled him. Yet how could he risk his honor?
“As I told you,” he said logically when his entire being called out for him to take her in his arms and never let go. “You come to me when you’re ready. When you won’t be ashamed.”
“But I—” She glanced up and, even though he’d whispered, their intense conversation had gained more attention. “I could never be ashamed of you. Is that what you think?”
He could not answer. The sergeant called to her, for it was growing dark, making the return journey dangerous. The truth left him vulnerable, and he’d already lost too much of his heart.
“Bye, Miss Lafayette! Thank you!” Morning Star called out, racing down the road.
“Write me when you arrive safely. I want to hear all about your exciting trip west.” Marie’s caring was genuine, and it made it harder for Night Hawk to harden his heart. To insist she was a woman afraid to love a man like him.
Her gaze pinned his. In the space between one heartbeat and the next, he read the longing in her eyes as clearly as if she’d spoken of it.
Had he been wrong to withhold his heart?
Chapter Eleven
“Marie.” The male voice seemed to come out of the night’s darkness.
“Night Hawk.” She’d thought only of him since she’d visited his niece. Equal parts of regret and longing filled her. Did she go to him? Did she run from him? She didn’t know what to do.
“Did Morning Star’s family leave safely?”
“As far as I know. My niece promised to send me a letter but it’s only been a few weeks.” He stepped close, so the candlelight glowing through the window tossed shadows over him.
He looked exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept well during the past months. As if he, too, were tormented by dreams that came like touches in the night. Images of him so real and loving that she woke in her lonely bed wishing to return to the dream.
How did she begin? How did she reveal to him her deepest fears?
Before she could speak, he cleared his throat. “I’ve come to speak with your father.”
“Papa?” Not her? She gripped the porch rail tightly.
“There was another cougar attack earlier tonight. A settler by the name of Meyers was attacked.”
“Is he all right?”
“The fort doctor is on his way.” Not speaking further, Night Hawk grew more serious. He could have been a stranger standing before her and not the man she’d made love to.
“I’ve come to join the hunt. Who in this fort knows where Henry is?”
“Major Gerard.”
A muscle bunched along his jawline. She could feel his tension, feel his pride and how it would not bend. How he believed she was ashamed of their love. Of the beautiful lovemaking they’d shared. Of the true bright passion that lived in her heart. Could they still recapture it?
He turned away, a man of dignity and silence, before she could find the words to make him believe in her. This was not the time, but her heart ached to say the words.
Her body ached for his touch.
She watched him stride down the dark path briefly touched by fading starlight. Beside the musket slung over his shoulder was another weapon—a hand-carved bow.
A part of her feared she would never have the chance to say the words locked in her heart. Never have the opportunity to more deeply love this great man.
It all came down to him. Would he give her the chance?
Seeing Marie again stirred up too many emotions. Emotions that hindered him on a hunt. Night Hawk shook the snow from his cap and tried to purge her from his mind. But her image remained, standing on the porch washed with dwindling starlight.
A cold wind drove hard from the north as if to remind him of his mission. To catch the killer cougar who was threatening his neighbor’s children.
Beside him, a handful of soldiers halted to nip at the whiskey in their flasks. Brought to keep them warm, or so they said. Night Hawk gave Shadow time to nibble at enough snow to quench the stallion’s thirst while he listened to the men’s conversations.
Some didn’t trust the tracker. Others thought he was a genius. Others complained, wishing for a warm bed and a full night’s sleep.
“There’s no sense casting for a sign in this weather,” Webster, the main tracker, boasted. “With this snow and it being nearly midnight, we won’t get a sighting until morning.”
“I’m not satisfied.” Exhaustion marked the colonel’s face. He hunched in the bitter cold. “We didn’t keep trying to flush out that cat and look what it did. Attacked Meyers when he was bringing in his cows for milking. No, we can’t stop.”
“That kill we found a ways back means the cat won’t be hunting for a few days.”
“Not that cat.” Night Hawk pushed through the ring of soldiers surrounding the colonel. “What about the other?”
“Cougars don’t share territory.” Webster rounded on him, eyes narrowing. “There’s only one cat. And we’ve been tracking him for three weeks.”
“He isn’t the cat you’re looking for.”
The soldiers silenced. Even the wind died, leaving the snow to whisper silently to the earth as Night Hawk steeled his spine, refusing to back down.
“Are you saying I can’t do my job?”
“Your job is to hunt the right cougar. Kill the one you’ve been tracking and it won’t stop the attacks on the settlers.”
Negative comments from the soldiers rose, men who’d been working in the bitter cold and through long hard hours, so Night Hawk didn’t take them to heart.
“A cat desperate enough to attack easy prey like children and fenced livestock doesn’t kill a deer.”
“What do you know?” Webster bit out. “I’ve been a tracker for the U.S. Army for fourteen years.”
“I’ve been tracking and hunting since I was five years old. My grandfather was a great hunter and taught me.” Night Hawk heard the soldiers’ silence. Tension vibrated in the frigid air. “I know every animal who lives in these hills. What tracks they make. How they live, what they eat, when they rest. The cougar hunts at night and early morning, so why are you tracking it during the day while it sleeps?”
Webster’s face reddened. “You don’t belong here. Colonel, are y
ou going to listen to his word over mine?”
The colonel rubbed his chin, considering.
He’s going to listen to his trusted soldier, Night Hawk predicted. Even the visionary colonel who’d brought harmony and tolerance to this land would not trust an outsider. Or an Indian.
“Let’s hear what Night Hawk has to say,” Henry said thoughtfully. “We need to work together, soldier and civilian, white and Indian if we are to keep our settlement’s children safe. Night Hawk, what more can you tell us?”
Many gazes turned on him, some assessing, some curious, some resentful. He was proud of his heritage, proud that he’d been raised to know the forest and its creatures.
He was grateful Henry respected his people’s knowledge. He turned now to face the colonel, and maybe to impress Marie’s father. It made him ashamed, but he was a man with weaknesses and fears like any other.
“Cougars are like spirits,” he explained. “You may never see one in your entire life although you walk right past one. They decide when and if you see them. For example, Sergeant Samms stopped to take a sip out of his flask and didn’t see the cougar on a bough not five feet above him.”
“There was no cat,” Webster insisted, contempt heavy in his voice.
“The cat had already feasted on his kill and he wasn’t hungry. He allowed the sergeant to live. I had my arrow notched to make sure.”
“You didn’t tell us.” The colonel looked greatly displeased.
“Why let you kill a creature behaving as it was made to do? It caused no harm, and it is not the cat you seek.” Night Hawk met the colonel’s gaze and felt the man’s powerful pull.
The man who stood between him and the woman he loved.
“Can you find this killer?” Henry’s gaze narrowed but there was respect there, visible even in the darkest shadows of the night.
“I will catch him before dawn breaks over the hills.” Night Hawk knew the soldiers doubted him and he could see Webster’s growing contempt. He laid his hand on his bow. “On my honor.”
The blizzard hit full force, but the icy winds didn’t touch him. He’d been trained for this as a boy and he’d completed his vision quest before his thirteenth birthday. A blizzard wouldn’t stop him from bringing in the animal. Nor could these men.
Disgusted they would not help, he spun Shadow toward the trees. “Fine. Have your doubts.”
“It can’t be done, Colonel,” Webster guffawed.
Night Hawk had heard insults before and kept riding. He had nothing to prove to the too-proud fort tracker who couldn’t distinguish between a male and a female paw print. He did not need these men to bring in the killer. He would do it on his own with the skills his grandfather had taught him.
Skills to first serve his clan. And now to serve his new community.
“Night Hawk.” The colonel’s gelding labored to plow through the drifting snow. “I’ve relieved my soldiers for the night. Sent them back to the barracks for a warm meal and some sleep. There are a few of us who would like to join you.”
Night Hawk looked past the colonel to where three other mounted men sat proudly on horseback, as determined as he. “Fine. But this is not a military mission, Henry. I will not take orders.”
“I won’t issue them.” Deep fatigue lined the colonel’s face, but his spirit would not be bowed. “This is Linwood, my junior tracker. He’s eager to learn anything you want to show him tonight. Especially since our efforts have failed.”
“I would be glad to teach him what I can.” Night Hawk nodded to the soft-faced lieutenant. Though he couldn’t be more than eighteen, there was a man’s respect in his gaze and he deserved the same. “Linwood, stay with me. I hope you men are ready for a hard ride. We have a great distance to cover.”
“I should have come to you and asked for your help, Night Hawk,” Henry said sincerely in front of the men.
It felt good to be counted. Good to make a difference.
Night Hawk sent Shadow deep into the heart of the forest.
Marie heard Night Hawk’s voice, nothing but a low rumble through the thin stable walls. He was back safe! The worry she’d harbored all through the night faded like shadows at dawn.
Kammeo complained with a low nicker and butted her hand. Marie couldn’t help it—she laughed and pulled the last peppermint piece from her pocket. “Spoiled, that’s what you are. Come on, let’s go see Night Hawk.”
Kammeo tossed her head as if in agreement. Or maybe she was demanding more peppermint. Either way, she came willingly out of the stall. Night Hawk’s voice grew fainter and then Marie heard nothing at all.
She rounded the last corner and there, brushed by new snow and daylight, stood Henry just inside the stable’s double doors, handing over his gelding to a stable boy. “Papa. Where’s Night Hawk?”
“Said he had to hurry home and look after his livestock.” Henry swept the snow-caked hat from his head and raked his hand through thinning gray locks. “Heard he came looking for me last night. Good thing, too. We caught that cat about an hour before dawn. The tough old tom tried to jump us, but Night Hawk stopped him with an arrow through the heart. Before the rest of us could even aim our muskets, the cougar was on the ground.”
Pride filled her. Her Night Hawk had done that. “You mean the cougar could have killed you?”
“Night Hawk saved us. It was something watching him in the forest. He knew how to flush out that cat, and there’s not an ounce of boastfulness in the man. It was a pleasure working with him.”
Could she be hearing him right? “Papa, I can’t believe it. You’re actually praising a man who isn’t a West Point graduate.”
“Getting soft in my old age, that’s all.” Henry dusted the snow from his shoulders.
“Next, I’ll have to convince you that a man like Night Hawk could make a fine husband.” She couldn’t believe she’d been so bold. Her heart skipped five beats. Maybe six.
The lines carved deep around Henry’s eyes appeared deeper. “I don’t think that’s something to joke about.”
“Maybe I’m not joking—”
“Marie Janelle! How you test me!” Henry exploded, his face flushing, his fists clenching. Knowing several lieutenants and stable boys were nearby, he leaned close and lowered his voice, but there was no mistaking the look of steely righteousness in his eyes. “If you even think of allowing a man like that to court you—”
“A man like what? An honorable man? A hardworking man—”
“A man who is not from our social standing.”
Marie’s stomach balled into a nauseated knot. “Papa, that’s not fair. You’re from a family without means. You know it’s what is inside a person that counts. That’s why your policies here have been so successful.”
“Public policy is one thing. What concerns my daughter is another.” Fury smoldered in his gaze. “I won’t have you marrying beneath you, Marie. I’ve worked too hard.”
“Papa, I—”
“Cross me on this, and I will send you back to Ohio on the next coach.” Always the colonel, always in charge, he stalked down the aisle, his gait broken, slack-shouldered and uneven. “I mean it, Marie.”
Her heart broke watching him walk away, clinging to the past. This was her father, the man who should be the epitome of unconditional love in her life. But when he looked at her, he saw duty. His to her. Hers to him.
Life was about more than duty. Love was more than duty. Or at least, that’s what she wanted. What she believed.
Watching her father disappear around the corner, she had to wonder. What is love? Or was she clinging to a foolish ideal, a girlhood dream of romance that could never exist?
“I’ll speak with him.”
“Ned!” Marie jumped, startled. She’d been lost in her thoughts. “I hear the cougar is caught, so now Papa and the rest of the men can get some sleep.”
“Looks to me like the colonel could use more than sleep.” Sympathy warmed his gaze. “He has to know by now the two of us aren’t going
to visit the altar together.”
“He won’t see. He won’t listen. He’s so set on having everything his way.”
“That’s what makes him a good colonel. And maybe not so good a father. I know a little something about that. Let me speak with him. And don’t worry.”
As she led Kammeo out into the grounds, she was grateful for Ned Gerard’s understanding. Maybe he could make Henry see reason.
What if he made good on his threat? Henry ran the fort. He had final authority over the school his soldiers built. He could send her back to Ohio and away from Night Hawk.
She hopped onto Kammeo’s back and guided the mare down the snowy path through the grounds. She had to get away. If only she knew where to find the answers. If only she had someone she could trust.
Kammeo shot through the gates and kicked up snow as they headed down the lonely road. Cloaked in white, the black limbs of the trees reached over the lane like arms raised in joy, but she couldn’t enjoy the beauty of the morning. The cold wind burned her face and forced tears from her eyes.
The mantle of snow transformed Night Hawk’s property from magical to mystical. It looked as if heaven had touched earth at this exact spot.
“You shouldn’t be here, Marie.” Night Hawk stalked from the stable, his face a stony mask. There was no telling what he thought. She thought of him last night in the dark and how she’d desperately hoped—
Something squawked, a sharp intelligent cry. A hawk, blue feathers bright against the stark white world, hopped on Night Hawk’s gloved left hand. One wing hung useless at its side as the creature cocked his head, looking at her.
“As you can see, he’s doing better.” He turned away, as if they were strangers. As if they hadn’t shared tender intimacies.
“Wait.” She slipped off Kammeo’s back.
Night Hawk acted as if he hadn’t heard her. Tall, proud, shoulders unbowed by hardship and heartache, he strode through the double doors and out of sight in the dark interior.
The hawk cried, and his low voice answered, soothing.