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Authors: Cassie Edwards

BOOK: Wild Desire
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Relieved that Sage was finally speaking, Adam's eyes took on a lively sparkle. “My mother is quite well, thank you,” he said, relaxing somewhat. “Mother has been widowed twice but is now happy with her third husband, Stephanie's father.”
“It is
han-e-ga
, good that she is well,” Sage said. “She was a good woman.”
“And your wife?” Adam said smoothly. “How is Leonida faring?”
“She is happy among the Navaho,” Sage said, his eyes taking on a dark glittering. “She
is
Navaho now. As is our son, Runner.”
“I can see that Runner has changed,” Adam said, raising an eyebrow as he roved his eyes over Runner. “A
lot
.”
Sage turned his gaze from Adam, shifting it to his son. He could see the instant attraction between Runner and the white woman. He was reminded of how quickly he had become enamored with a white woman, himself, all those years ago. Although Sage's marriage had been blessed with happiness, he would much rather his son choose a Navaho bride.
If Runner married a white woman, his children would most certainly be white. If he married a Navaho, there was always a chance that the children would be at least part Navaho, which would be preferable since Runner would one day be the leader of the People.
He could not allow his son to fall in love with a woman who was aligned with a man who had returned to Arizona for all of the wrong reasons. It was most certainly not to renew acquaintances—there was no logic in why he would.
His gaze swept over the richness of Adam's attire, stopping at the two diamond rings on his hands. This man was not guided by the heart. It was evident that he put too much faith in what money could buy. Sage could not help but feel that Adam was there only because of the railroad, and if so, he could not be made to feel welcome.
“Adam, what has brought you to Arizona?” Runner asked, guardedly watching Adam's reaction. He knew the foolishness of asking the question that he already knew the answer to. As each moment passed, Runner suspected that his old friend had strong ties with the Santa Fe Railroad and was there for all of the wrong reasons.
Adam looked over his shoulder at the train, then slowly looked from Runner to Sage. He felt that it was important to talk to Runner alone, to explain about being responsible for this new Santa Fe spur and his ideas behind it. Sage had already shown his resentment by his cold behavior. He could instantly reject the idea. Adam wanted the chance to slowly persuade Runner into accepting everything. And then he could spring it on his father.
He turned glittering eyes back to Runner. “I've come to see my old friends,” Adam said, placing a hand on Runner's shoulder. “And to escort my stepsister to this great land so that she can photograph it. She's a photographer for the Santa Fe Railroad.”
Runner's and Sage's expressions became instantly cold and distant as they glowered at Adam and then Stephanie. Their thoughts were the same on people taking photographs of their People: it was exploitation of the worst variety.
Stephanie smiled awkwardly at Runner and Sage. Their reaction to the mention of her being a photographer made her realize that nothing she had planned in the weeks ahead would come easy. She was already meeting resentment she had never expected.
Her gaze stopped on Runner. Having him resent her for any reason was going to be hard for her to accept. She was attracted to him as never before to any other man. She could not allow anything to stand in the way of their knowing one another.
She would fight for her rights, not only to take her photographs, but also to be free to become closer to Runner. She had to find away to tear down this barrier that he had just placed between them.
And she would.
She scarcely ever lost at anything she fought for.
Chapter 4
I never saw so sweet a face
As that I stood before
My heart has left its dwelling place
And can return no more.
—J
OHN
C
LARE
Stephanie had read somewhere that Indians distrusted cameras and wouldn't allow their pictures to be taken for fear that their images on paper might capture their soul. Realizing that photographing the Navaho might be even less accepted among their people than the new spur line, Stephanie decided it was best to put aside further talk of it.
“Adam and I have been invited to supper at Damon Stout's ranch tonight,” she said in an effort to break the silence. “Sage, would you and your family like to join us? Perhaps we can become better acquainted. We can talk things over that . . . that . . . obviously displease you.”
Adam's eyes lit up. He saw that he had been clever in bringing her with him. She could have more control of these Indians than he could. She was a beautiful young woman, hard to resist. It had been hard, but he had resisted loving her long ago; their feelings toward one another had always been those of brother and sister.
His eyes wavered when he saw that her suggestion had brought no change in Sage and Runner. Instead, he saw an even deeper anger in Sage's narrowing, dark eyes.
“And how do you know Damon Stout?” Runner finally said.
“I have not made his acquaintance, personally,” Stephanie said, wishing now that she had not mentioned Damon. She could tell that both Runner and Sage did not take well to the man's name, which had to mean they had no good feelings toward the man.
She nodded over at Adam. “He's Adam's friend,” she murmured. “I believe they made an acquaintance when Adam was last here, while surveying the land for his private spur. Isn't that so, Adam?”
Adam gave a quick, steely glance upon her mention of the private spur. He had not wanted to spring that on the Navaho until later.

Your
private spur?” Sage said. “These tracks belong to you?”
“That is something I would like to discuss with you later,” Adam said nervously. “Tonight? At Damon's ranch? I'm sure he would not mind if I'm extending this invitation to your family, Sage. Would you please bring them? I would love to see Leonida.”
“Yes, please bring Leonida,” Stephanie said. “I've heard so much about your family. I'm very anxious to make Leonida's acquaintance.”
“And isn't there a daughter?” Adam said, taking this opportunity to focus more on family than on reasons for him and Stephanie being in Arizona. He knew of this daughter and that she had been named Pure Blossom, after Sage's late sister. It was best to show innocence now, to make room for more light conversation between himself and the Navaho.
“Yes, a daughter has been born into our family,” Sage said, nodding. “Pure Blossom. She is called Pure Blossom.” He cast his eyes on Stephanie. “She is perhaps the same winters of age as you. And there is also a son: Thunder Hawk.”
“I am most anxious to meet both your daughter and your other son,” Stephanie said, smiling over at Sage.
“You will come, then, to Damon's ranch?” Adam asked quickly, while there was some rapport being reached, thanks to Stephanie's sweet, vibrant personality and her way of drawing people into not only liking but loving her. “You will bring your entire family?”

E-do-tano
, no.” Sage said, his voice stern. “Never.”
“This Navaho son accepts the invitation,” Runner quickly interjected.
Runner's spine stiffened when he felt the scalding look from his father, but ignored it. Once his father heard his reason for deciding to go to Damon's ranch, he would understand. This was a perfect opportunity, not only for the obvious reason, but for another that he would not share with his father. Although he was fighting his feelings about Stephanie, he could not deny himself the chance to get to know her better.
He also wanted to question her further about being a photographer. This, as well as the woman, intrigued him, although, for the sake of the Navaho People, he should be hating the thought of both.
“That's magnificent, Runner,” Adam said, seeing his plan slowly falling into place. He clasped an eager hand on Runner's muscle-tight shoulder. “It is good to be with you again, my friend. I never thought it possible.”
“Times change,” Runner said, his voice drawn. “But most of all, people change.”
He reached up and eased Adam's hand from his shoulder. “Tonight, Adam,” he said, purposely not using the term “friend.” He saw Adam as anything but that. He could see that the boy of his youth was now a scheming man.
Runner turned to Stephanie as her eyes locked with his. “Tonight, Stephanie,” he said, then swung his horse around and rode off beside his father.
After Runner and Sage were some distance from Stephanie and Adam, who were now riding in the opposite direction from them, Sage turned angrily to Runner. “You are going to Damon's ranch?” he said, glowering at Runner. “Do you not see this as foolish? There is much bad blood between the Navaho and Damon. You know that he is suspected of stealing Navaho horses.”
“That is exactly why I am going to his ranch,” Runner said, smiling at his father. “Do you not see? I can sneak out to Damon's corral and check the horses. I know all of our People's steeds as well as one knows his best friend.”
A slow smile moved on Sage's lips. “I have raised a clever, intelligent son,” he said, his smile erupting into a pleased laugh. A wizened man, his movements were spry with vigor and his eyes were shrewd and twinkling.
“Then you agree to my going?” Runner asked, riding tall in his saddle, the wind lifting his long hair from his shoulders. “I never wish to disobey, Father.”
“Go, but be warned, my son, against having feelings for the white woman,” Sage growled out. “Always remember the importance of looking forward to a future of raising Navaho children in your hogan, not white.”
“Father, I am white, am I not?” Runner said guardedly. “Do not I represent our People of Navaho, even though by birthright I am white?”
“By saying this, are you telling your father that you do have eyes for the woman called Stephanie?” Sage said, his jaw tightening.
“It is too early to know or to say,” Runner said, turning his eyes from Sage, fearing they would betray what he was trying to hide from his beloved, adoptive father.
“Be careful with your heart and to whom you give it,” Sage warned. “I see much treachery in Adam. Who is to say that his sister is not the same?”
Runner turned to Sage. “She is not of his blood kin,” he said, in defense.
“That is so,” Sage said, nodding. “One other thing, Runner. See if Adam is solely responsible for this thing he calls a private spur.”
“It is as good as done,” Runner said, smiling over at his father, realizing that his father had not pursued the question of ownership of the private spur with Adam on purpose. He knew that his son would get him enough of the answers.
They rode onward in silence, their horses urged into a hard canter.
Runner's thoughts were on his father's warnings and remembering his own reservations about the white woman. Thus far, no woman, white or Indian, had caused him to take a lingering, second look.
Not until now.
Not until Stephanie.
In this one case, he might have to go against the wishes of his Navaho father and follow the rulings of his heart, yet he would proceed with much caution.
He frowned when he recalled again why she was there: to bring a camera into the land of the Navaho. This could be why he felt that he should not allow his feelings for her to become stronger.
He hoped that he would not be forced to make the choice between this woman and his people.
 
 
The sun was streaming through the window of the private railroad car, splashing golden light on the plush furniture and reflecting like sparkling diamonds in the long-stemmed wineglass that Adam was turning in his fingers. The train's engine had been abandoned by the engineer and workers. They had taken their horses from the cattle car and had ridden off to seek their own amusements back at Gallup, at a place called the “Big Tent.”
“Stephanie, you were magnificent,” Adam said, laughing. He stretched his long, lean legs out and crossed them at the ankles. “Absolutely stupendous. If not for you, Runner would have gone with his father and would not have accepted the invitation to Damon's ranch.”
Stephanie was at the window, illumined by a beam of sunlight. She gazed out at the mountains in the distance, only half hearing Adam, still under the spell of Runner's midnight-dark eyes and the mystery of this man called the “White Indian.”
“Stephanie?” Adam said, turning to look at her. “Did you hear what I said? You're one clever sister. If not for you, Runner wouldn't have agreed to go and meet with us at Damon's ranch. Don't you see the value in that? If I can sway Runner over to our side, he'll persuade the Navaho to accept my private spur. It's apparent there is a mutual trust and respect between Sage and Runner. Sage will do as his son suggests.”
Adam's mention of Runner drew Stephanie's thoughts back to the present and her brother. She turned and looked at Adam. “What was that you said about Runner?” she murmured.
“Aw, nothing,” Adam said, shrugging. He set his wineglass aside on a table. “It seems you'd not hear me, anyhow.” He smiled wryly. “He's in your blood, isn't he? You're falling for Runner, aren't you?”
A heated blush rose to Stephanie's cheeks. She avoided Adam's knowing stare and walked smoothly across thick carpeting, past grand, overstuffed chairs. She hurried into the smaller adjoining rooms that served as her bedroom and darkroom.
Fumbling through the darkness, she found a lamp and match. She almost dropped the match when Adam came quickly to her side.
“Let me light the lamp for you,” Adam said, striking the match and placing it to the wide, kerosene-soaked wick.
“Be careful, Adam,” Stephanie said, holding the lamp steady. “Always remember the danger of my photographic chemicals.”
“Always,” Adam said, chuckling. “Do you think I want to go up in smoke just as I'm about to see my dreams come true?”
Stephanie saw the need for another warning to her brother. “Don't count your chickens before they hatch,” she said, setting her lamp on a counter, far from the trays of chemicals that she used for developing her negatives. “Didn't you see Sage's reaction? It's obvious that he's not only against the railroad but also my being a photographer.”
She turned to Adam and reached a hand to his lapel, smoothing it out with a soft touch of her fingers. “My dear brother, I do believe you have a battle on your hands,” she said, smiling up at him. “Now, be on your way. I want to develop the photographs that I took while we had our stopover in Gallup. That town is quite colorful, don't you think?”
“No less than what I propose for mine,” Adam said, bending to kiss her brow. “I see it as a magnificent place, sis. Absolutely magnificent.”
“Magnificent,” Stephanie said, laughing softly. “To you everything is magnificent.” She reached her arms around him and gave him a hug. “Sweetie, I hope you get your dreams.”
Adam returned her hug. “With your help, I believe it's within reach,” he said, then was jolted with alarm when she swung quickly away from him.
“My help?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“You didn't hear anything that I was saying a few minutes ago, did you?” Adam said, sighing. “Oh, well. I'm not going to go into it again. You'll see soon enough what I mean without me spelling it out for you now.”
Stephanie started to say something else, but Adam was already gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
“I wonder what he meant?” she whispered, then began stirring fresh chemicals into water. All around her hung the proof of her love of photography.
Stephanie's heart was not on her work as she began to unload her case of plates. All that she could think about was Runner, anxious now to begin taking photographs of the Navaho and their lovely land. She had met the man of her dreams; she had to find a way to get him to understand why her photographs could be used for the good of his people, not the bad.
“I must find a way,” she whispered, stopping to slip her suit jacket off. She rolled the sleeves of her white blouse up to her elbows and unbuttoned the two top buttons. She swept her hair back from her shoulders.
Then she proceeded to develop her plates, her heart pounding at the thought of seeing Runner again, under
any
circumstances.

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