Witch Dance (9 page)

Kate bent down and pressed her tongue against the base of his throat. So fast she hardly saw him move, Eagle imprisoned her against his chest.

“I see the new dawn in the East, Kate, We must greet it properly.”

“I have to go back before Dr. Colbert discovers I’m missing.”

“He knows you’re with me.”

“No. I didn’t tell him.”

“He doesn’t need to be told; he saw.”

“When?”

“The day I brought you flowers.”

Not only was she shameless, but now Dr. Colbert knew, and everything she’d worked for would go up in smoke. She’d go home in disgrace, and he’d find somebody who was
committed
.

And all because she couldn’t control her libido.

“We won’t do this again,” she said.

“No.” Eagle’s eyes gleamed as he wound her hair around his fingers.

“No?” His ready agreement stung.

“No. Each time will be different. We will love in as many ways as there are stars in the sky.”

“I’m telling you that I came here to practice medicine, and I won’t let you interfere with that.”

“Fate sent you to me. It’s useless to argue with fate.”

It was also useless to argue with Eagle. Especially when he was naked.

Kate sighed, leaning against him.

“Tell me about greeting the new dawn properly.”

“Everything goes in a circle, Kate, and that circle is sacred. The new dawn of the East becomes the wisdom of sunset. The rain that comes down from Father Sky drenches Mother Earth, then returns as vapor.” Eagle moved as he talked, running his hands through Kate’s hair, gliding his tongue along her throat and down to her breasts.

“Someone will see,” she whispered, but she was beyond caring.

He continued the erotic tongue bath as if he hadn’t heard. She shivered as he licked the flat planes of her belly.

“In honor of nature’s sacred circle, we will perform the medicine wheel.” His tongue laved the skin of her inner thighs. Devilish lights twinkled in his eyes as he lifted his head to look at her. “I think you call it sixty-nine.”

She didn’t care what it was called, for she was already on the wheel, spinning round and round.

 o0o

He heard them come in, just after dawn.

Standing in the shadows, Clayton watched as Eagle lifted Kate off his horse and kissed her. It was a kiss between lovers, a long, passionate embrace with their bodies melded and swaying together like two willows in the wind.

He watched. Imagining he was the one with his arms around her. Imagining it was his name she murmured in her low, love-sated voice.

Clayton couldn’t turn away, even when Kate faced the window, even when she started into the house. He had to see her, had to see the flush of sex on her skin and the brightness of passion in her eyes.

His hands clenched into fists as she climbed the front porch steps. Even when she opened the front door, he couldn’t turn away.

When she was inside the house, he slid behind the heavy drapery like a damned cowardly voyeur. Hiding in his own house.

She passed so close, he could have touched her. The smell of the fresh morning breezes and recent sex mingled with her own floral fragrance to create an intoxicating scent that almost brought Clayton to his knees. He clamped his bottom lip with his teeth to keep from giving himself away.

Her footsteps echoed across the wooden floor, then faded. Motionless, he stood behind the curtains with his mouth open in a silent scream of agony.

The door to her bedroom closed, and the house grew quiet. Clayton stood until he felt the rising sun warm his back; then he went into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee.

It was only when he lifted the cup to his lips that he tasted his tears. He was just wiping them away when she came into the kitchen. Fresh and rosy from her bath. Bright-eyed. As if she hadn’t spent the night in the arms of that young warrior.

“Good morning, Dr. Colbert.” She pecked him on the cheek.

“ ‘Morning, Kate.”

His hand tightened on the handle of the coffee cup as she walked to the refrigerator to get a glass of juice. Any faint hopes he’d harbored that Eagle wasn’t good in bed were dashed: She walked like a woman fulfilled.

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “I was thinking of a picnic—”

“Oh, Dr. Colbert—”

“Maybe down by the river,” he said, hurrying on past the refusal he knew was inevitable. “We’ve worked every Saturday since you came. The change will do us both good.”

“I promised Eagle. He called last night when you were in the shower.” She flushed at her lie.

“Eagle?” As if he didn’t know.

“Eagle Mingo. He’s coming to take me riding.”

As if he hadn’t already taken her riding. All night long. Clayton was careful to set his coffee cup down without unnecessary noise and motion.

“The Mingos have fine stables,” he said.

“I love riding.” She pushed her hair back from her hot face. “I used to visit cousins up in Virginia and ride with the hounds. It’s really a lovely way to relax.”

What other lovely ways would they use to relax?

He might have made a complete fool of himself and asked if the sound of hoofbeats hadn’t saved him. Kate flew to the window and drew the curtain aside.

Eagle Mingo—virile, handsome, young—came into view, riding a black stallion and leading a snow-white mare. He rode Indian-style, with nothing but bridle and blanket.

How could Clayton possibly hope to compete with him?

Kate raced to the door without even saying good-bye. Eagle dismounted and cupped his hands for her to swing onto the back of the mare. When she was seated, he slowly ran his hands the length of her leg.

Clayton didn’t hear what he said, but he heard Kate’s reply,

“I can hardly wait.”

Moving swiftly, Clayton went into Kate’s bedroom and lay upon her bed. Then he pulled the sheet that smelled like her over himself.

 o0o

“You ride like a Chickasaw, Kate,”

“I feel like a Chickasaw. Wild and free.” She gave a war whoop, then bent low over the mare’s neck. “Race you!”

Hooves thundered over the prairie floor as Eagle took her challenge. The white mare was no match for the black stallion, but Eagle let her lead for a distance in order to enjoy the view. He enjoyed watching fine horsemanship, and Kate had a firm seat and a sure hand.

His eyes darkened, then he put troubling thoughts out of his mind.

“
Aiya
,” he urged his mount, and soon he was beside Kate, reaching for her bridle. He drew the two horses to a stop beside a deep bend in the river. A stand of silver maple and elm created a natural shelter.

Scooping Kate into his arms, he waded into the river. When they were waist-deep, with the river soaking his jeans and the bottom of her shorts, he nudged her hair aside and whispered, “I’m in need of being rescued, Kate.”

She cupped his face and looked into his eyes. “You’re full-blood . . . all the way back to Piomingo.”

“You’ve inquired?”

“Of Deborah Lightfoot. In a casual way.”

“This is not casual, Kate.”

“What is it?”

He unbuttoned her blouse, his fingers dark upon her creamy skin.

“Fate,” he said.

All her years of study, all her lofty plans, even the deep schism between herself and her father, were nothing beside the reality of Eagle Mingo.

“Who can fight fate?” she whispered, reaching for his zipper.

His jeans floated downstream and snagged on a tree branch over the river, and her shorts landed atop a large rock. Sleek as otters, they came together in the water. They rose and fell upon the waves, as skilled as the water creatures in their natural habitat. And when their need demanded a greater intimacy, Eagle carried her from the river and spread her upon a carpet of moss underneath the silver maples.

With fingers laced and eyes locked, they loved until their cries mingled and joined his namesake circling the sky.

“You will come to me, Kate, at night, at my campsite beside the river.” She lay still, watching his eyes. They were both beautiful and terrible, filled with passion and the desperate knowledge that they could never be more than lovers, stealing moments in each other’s arms.

“You will come on the white mare . . .”

“I won’t . . .”

He put his hand over her lips. “Her name is Mahli. It means the wind.”

The power of him made her tremble. He touched her as no man ever had, touched her in all the secret places of her body and in that shining place known as the soul. How could she deny him anything?

“I will come . . . but only because I
choose
to.”

Smiling, he began to move in her once more.

As Kate spiraled upward, she thought it was appropriate that she would fly to him on the wind.

Chapter 9

Anna’s baby kicked inside her as if she already knew the sound of her father’s voice. Anna placed her hand over her protruding stomach.

“Yes, my precious one. You know him, don’t you, Mary Doe?”

She’d named her little girl, although she was careful not to use the name in front of Cole. He was thoroughly convinced that he’d fathered yet another son who would carry on the Mingo name.

Anna hid the tiny dress she was embroidering underneath the balls of yarn and the knitting needles in her sewing basket as Cole came through the door with Bucky riding on his shoulders. Clint trotted along beside Cole, swinging his daddy’s hand.

“You should have seen them, Anna. Bucky’s going to be a quarterback and Clint’s going to be a fullback.” Cole set Bucky on a kitchen stool, then patted Anna’s stomach on the way to the refrigerator to pour four glasses of milk. “Pretty soon we’re going to have our own football team.”

“I saw you out the window. All three of you were marvelous.”

“Drink your milk, sweetheart.” Cole pulled out a chair for her. “We want to make that little linebacker you’re carrying big and strong.”

She sank into the chair and lifted the glass to her lips. Anna knew the value of prenatal care. When Mary Doe was born, she’d have strong bones and a head start on growing fine, white teeth. She’d have Cole’s straight nose and glorious cheekbones and Anna’s full lips. Her little Mary Doe was going to be the most beautiful girl in Witch Dance.

Smiling a secret smile, Anna pictured herself and Mary Doe, mother and daughter, best friends, cuddled together in a room decorated with pink curtains and a frilly bedspread, talking girl talk. She’d tell her daughter to dream big dreams and not be afraid. She’d tell her that women could do anything men could. She might even use the new medicine woman as an example.

Mary Doe would have a wonderful life, full of encouragement and opportunity. She would know that she could be more than a wife and mother, or a secretary or a schoolteacher on the reservation.

Not that Anna was complaining. Her life was grand. She had her sons and a beautiful house on the ranch . . . and a magnificent husband. Cole was good to her. He loved her and pampered her and treated her with great respect. Sometimes, though, she wished he’d listen when she talked about her ambition.

“My wife has no need to be in politics and wear pants like a man,” he’d say when she mentioned that she’d like to be on the school board. “My wife is too busy making babies.”

And they were. Cole was an unselfish, caring lover, passionate about her, even in her third trimester of pregnancy. The night before, he’d brought her to a fast, hard climax with his tongue.

“Sweet
lhokomuk
,” he murmured as she returned the favor. “My little nectar seeker.”

Lhokomuk
. Hummingbird. He’d first called her that the night they met at the drugstore in Ada, where she sold perfumes. He’d come to get a prescription filled for his little brother. She’d fallen instantly, madly in love. But Cole had taken longer. Three days longer, as a matter of fact, days he spent digging into her family tree.

She cringed to think what would have happened if her bloodline hadn’t been pure. How could she have lived with a broken heart?

“Daddy, look. It’s Uncle Eagle.” Clint pointed out the window.

“Unca Eaga.” Bucky flew across the room and pressed his nose against the windowpane, “On a big horse.”

“Come on, Bucky. Let’s go meet him.”

Clint took his little brother by the hand, and they raced down the driveway toward their uncle.

Cole set his half-empty glass on the bar and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His face was set in terrible lines.

“Cole. Don’t be too hard on him.” Anna left her chair and put her hand over her husband’s. “He’s your brother. You love him.”

“It’s because I love him, Anna . . .”

“Invite him to dinner, Cole.”

“He doesn’t have time for dinner. He’s too busy with
her
.”

“He must have his reasons.” She put an imploring hand on his arm as he strode toward the front door. “Just listen to him, Cole. Please.”

Cole didn’t like his wife to be upset, and more than that, he didn’t like to be the cause. He snaked his arms around her and rested his cheek on her hair.

“
Lhokomuk
, sweet
lhokomuk
. If my brother weren’t riding up the driveway, I’d make you forget about everything except me.”

“You’ve already made me forget, my darling.”

Cole kissed the top of her head, then put two fingers under her chin and lifted her face toward his.

“He’s my brother, Anna. Nothing will ever change that.”

She was smiling when he went through the door, exactly as he’d intended. He hadn’t lied to her. He and Eagle had started in the womb together, and nothing would destroy that bond.

He stood beside petunia beds Anna had planted around their front porch, watching as Eagle dismounted and greeted Bucky and Clint. The reserve they’d first shown him quickly vanished, and now his boys cavorted with Eagle as if they’d known him forever.

“Catch, Unca Eaga.” Bucky scooped up the football they’d been playing with and tossed it to his uncle.

Eagle caught the ball and raced without effort toward an imaginary goal line while his nephews yelled their encouragement.