Jillian Hart - Night Hawk's Bride

She’ll never be yours. He knew it. But that truth didn’t stop him from wanting her long after she’d disappeared from his sight or deep into the night where he lay alone in his bed.

Always alone.

A dog’s welcoming bark shattered the serene lakeside meadow. Loons and warblers rose from the tall grasses with squawks of protest. Butterflies feeding on the fragrant wildflowers scattered on the wind. On the sun-bright water, a pair of ducks and their half-grown chicks glided farther into the lake.

The huge black dog bounded down the grassy path, his tongue lolling. He leaped at her, his face friendly. Not knowing how to stop him, Marie accepted his big paws on her shoulders and rubbed his ears until Night Hawk’s voice thundered across the shoreline.

“Meka. Down.”

Marie laughed when the dog lunged at her basket. “You’ll have to wait like a gentleman,” she told him.

“If you’re looking for gentlemen, you’re in the wrong territory.” Night Hawk halted on the path in front of her, winded from running. His chest rose and fell, attracting her gaze. He wore dark trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. She noticed his shirt was unbuttoned again and showed a wedge of bronze chest.

He’d been working in his fields, shirtless, and she’d missed it. Longing swept through her. “You said I could come back. I brought baked goods so you’d let me stay longer this time.”

“Baked goods?” The stony look on his face softened. “Give me that basket.”

“You must have a sweet tooth.”

“A great big one.” When he took the basket from her, he was careful to keep his fingers well away from hers. As they walked, he kept a respectful distance between them.

“Were you cutting more hay?” she asked.

“Oats this time. The cut grass is still drying.” He didn’t look at her but strode with leashed power that made her think of a wolf stalking prey.

She’d thought of him many times in the passing days, but she realized her remembered images of him paled when compared to the reality. He seemed taller, imposing, and so essentially masculine that she felt small next to him.

“My niece Morning Star said she met you.” Night Hawk held aside a low fir branch that hung over the path so Marie could easily pass. “She said you came in your buggy with the sergeant.”

“Morning Star is your niece?” Marie hadn’t considered that the native family she’d visited yesterday morning could be related to Night Hawk. “I bet she’ll be one of my best students.”

“She was first in her class last year when the school was first opened.” Pride expanded his shoulders even wider. “She rode over this morning on her pony and told me all about you.”

“Is she excited for school to start?”

“She can’t wait. I’m told she likes reading best.”

“I’ll remember that.” Marie thought of all the children she’d met so far. “Some parents are hesitant to send their children to learn from the fort teacher. I’m hoping my visits will make a difference.”

As they crested the small rise and Night Hawk’s land spread out around them in gentle rolling hills of green and gold, of grazing horses and thriving crops, Marie couldn’t imagine being lucky enough to live in a cozy log cabin like he did. Or gaze through the window to see foals romping in the pastures while their mothers watched.

He held out his hand to help her over the fence.

Fire consumed her in hot, bright sparkles that made it impossible to ignore. She was thoroughly attracted to the man.

Kammeo broke over the crest of the hill, mane and tail flying, strong legs churning the ground as she galloped. The sight of her stole Marie’s breath.

She’s mine, all mine. Happiness wrapped her up like a thick down quilt, and with Night Hawk at her side, Marie imagined just for a moment what it would be like to stay like this forever.

Another foolish daydream, but even as she tried to force the wish from her mind, it remained.

Kammeo charged down the hill like a warhorse and skidded to a stop dangerously near. But Night Hawk didn’t move a muscle, so Marie wasn’t afraid. She reached into her skirt pocket.

Kammeo nickered in approval and, as if she’d read Marie’s mind, had her teeth around the treat in Marie’s hand the instant she’d taken it from her pocket.

“Spoiling her already?”

“I’m trying my best.” Marie laughed as the sugar cookie disappeared in one quick bite. “Lucky I have more. Have you worked with her already today?”

“No, I train the horses in the afternoon.” He said nothing more as he turned, leaving her alone with Kammeo.

The horse nudged Marie’s pocket, wise to its contents, and made an affectionate nickering sound. How could Marie resist? She withdrew another cookie and loved the feel of Kammeo’s soft lips on her palm.

Was she really here and not dreaming? Marie marveled at this exceptional moment in time. The warm sun kissed her with a welcome heat, and the shivering grasses and wildflowers sent dazzling fragrances into the clean air. Birds chirped and butterflies glided. Kammeo leaned her nose against Marie, pressing from her breastbone to her stomach, and contentment filled her, warm and sweet.

She knew the instant Night Hawk returned. The sun felt brighter and the wind sweeter. Harmony flooded her, like a melody finding harmony. All the pieces of her life fell into place. A beautiful sense of rightness filled her as Night Hawk shouldered past her, the bridle in hand.

She resisted the urge to lay her hand against the high plane of his cheek. But she knew.

Everything in her life had happened for a reason—and it was to bring her here—to this meadow, to this man.

“She’s still afraid of my weight.” The colonel’s daughter spun toward him in the shaded circle of the corral. “I’m doing this wrong.”

“No, she needs time to learn to trust you.” Night Hawk fought to keep his feelings for the woman neutral. “She’s getting tired, aren’t you, girl? Don’t worry, Marie. She’ll let you know when she’s ready.”

“I’ll trust you on that.”

“You seem to like working with her.”

“Sure, but I remember you saying that you would train her.”

He laughed because he saw the teasing sparkles in her eyes. “You said you wanted to ride like I do. That is something only you and Kammeo can do together.”

“I knew you were going to say that.” Marie laid one slender hand against the fence. Exhaustion marked her delicate skin, but her face was flushed with pleasure.

He ought to send her home. Every instinct he had roared at him to keep his distance. But his heart overruled. He told himself he had a fondness for a fellow horse lover, that was all. But he was only lying to himself and he knew it.

“I’m out of cookies.” The gentle trill of her laughter drew him. Kammeo was nosing at Marie’s skirt pocket again, determined to find the treat she deserved for putting up with that scary experience of having a little weight on her back. “Night Hawk, what do I do?”

“I’ll get some grain.” He liked rescuing Marie, if only from her overly affectionate mare.

When he returned with a small pail of grain and a currycomb, he found Kammeo chewing contentedly and Marie rubbing her nose. The picnic basket was in the grass just outside the fence, evidence that Marie hadn’t waited for the grain.

“Gave in, did you?” He set the pail on the ground in front of the mare as she stole another cookie from Marie’s hand.

“I couldn’t resist.”

“How do you keep discipline in a classroom with that soft heart of yours?”

“I use the same method I do with Kammeo. I win them over with cookies.”

“The children in this settlement are lucky that you came to teach them. Is that what you brought me in your basket? Cookies?”

“Yes. You should have seen the outrage on Mrs. Olstad’s face when she came in from shopping to find me making a mess in her kitchen. She must think I’m some sort of pampered, spoiled little girl. She didn’t believe me when I promised I wouldn’t set the kitchen afire and I’d clean up afterward.”

“I bet she wasn’t happy when you proved her wrong.”

“She forbade me to step foot in her kitchen again, but I’m planning on winning her over. I’m not sure cookies will work.”

How Marie charmed him. Like stars drawing the moon across the sky, Night Hawk felt a potent, undeniable attraction. Intense desire turned his blood to liquid fire. Never had he wanted anything as much as the right to draw Marie into his arms and claim her as his.

A dangerous need. One he refused to give in to.

Hands trembling, he pulled a currycomb out of the second pail and concentrated on grooming the horse. Long, gliding strokes along the mare’s flank that kept him from thinking about Marie.

But he heard the tap of her shoe on the earth and a clatter of steel against the small bucket. Marie wasn’t so easy to ignore. She gently assured Kammeo there were no more cookies in her pocket.

He should send Marie home now, while he still could. He’d finish training the horse himself and there would be no more visits. No more temptation.

That’s what he should do.

“I brought something besides the cookies,” Marie said as she watched him across the span of the mare’s withers. “It’s not for you, I’m afraid. I brought some books Morning Star might like to read. You said she rides her pony over to visit you. I don’t think I’ll get a chance to see her before school starts.”

“What kind of books?”

“A few children’s stories about horses. I hope that will keep her excited about going to school.”

As the wind caressed her hair and the sun graced her with fire, Marie wasn’t just beauty, but spirit too.

One that touched his.

Night Hawk felt his steel will melt like a candle beneath a hot flame.

How was he going to resist her now?

The excitement of preparing the schoolhouse was a shadow when compared to the brightness Marie felt from being with Night Hawk. She loved teaching but it wasn’t the reason she hummed as she tottered on the low stool to hang the curtains she’d made.

“Miss Lafayette?” a woman’s modest voice broke the silence.

The curtain rod fell from Marie’s fingers. “Goodness, you surprised me. I didn’t hear you on the steps. Please, come in.”

Spring Rain, Morning Star’s mother, studied the desks lined in neat rows. “The children will learn well here.”

“I sure hope so.” Marie hopped off the stool and rescued the fallen curtains. “I hope all your children will be attending?”

“We shall see. My husband is not sure. He doesn’t see the use in his sons knowing letters and numbers.” Spring Rain hesitated in the center of the room. “Morning Star is my first husband’s daughter, Night Hawk’s brother, and so Running Deer will allow her to attend school. Night Hawk brought your books this morning. I came to thank you.”

“I hope she enjoys them.” Marie fit the wood rod over the wooden pins, and the green gingham curtains cascaded into place. “Would you like some tea? I have cookies, too.”

“My sweet tooth is my weakness.” She accepted with warm laughter. “Your father has done great things in this settlement. It has been hard with my people leaving. Only a few of us remain.”

This was about Night Hawk, Marie realized as she poured two cups of tea.

“I know that Night Hawk is training a horse for you.” Spring Rain accepted the cup and cradled it in her hands.