White Fire

She could not help but doubt that he would be gone this long with his son, for it was apparent that Michael would tire easily from the long ride, despite the invigorating effect of the fresh air.

But if White Fire was no longer with Michael, she wondered where he might have gone. There were to be no councils held at the fort today between her father and visiting Indians. So there would be no need for White Fire to be there in the capacity of interpreter. Sighing, Flame turned away from the window.

She stopped and gazed at the bedroom that lay only a few footsteps away. Her heart began beating more soundly at the thought of being there with White Fire, of being on the bed, of him kissing her, of him telling her how much he loved and adored her.

Flame closed her eyes as she recalled the one time with him when their feelings had gone further than just an embrace. She shivered sensually and hugged herself as she remembered how wonderful it had felt for him to slide his hand inside her blouse, his flesh hot against her own. Nothing had ever felt so delicious. It had stirred such a feeling of blissful excitement within her very soul.

The sound of a horse approaching brought Flame quickly out of her reverie. She turned back toward the window and gazed outside just in time to see White Fire dismount and whirl his reins around the hitching rail.

She smiled as she saw him stop and look at her horse. She giggled when she saw his slow smile, knowing that he recognized the horse.

As he came inside and gazed down at Flame with his midnight dark eyes, she drifted into his arms. “I could not go home just yet,” she murmured, her cheeks flushed hot with excitement. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I came here and waited for you.”

He wrapped her within his arms. “You know that I would love to always find you here on my return from my outings,” he said, his voice husky as his arousal for her could not be denied.

“It seems forever since I first arrived,” Flame said, searching his eyes. “What took you so long? Surely you haven’t been with Michael this long?”

Unsure of whether or not he should confide in her about what he had just done at Fort Parker, White Fire slipped away and went to stare out the window.

“White Fire?” Flame said, going to his side. She took one of his hands and encouraged him to turn and face her. “Where have you been? You seem so troubled.”

When he still said nothing to her, but just gazed at her with a strange sort of light in his eyes, Flame became uneasy.

“White Fire, does your behavior have anything to do with my father?” she blurted out.

Knowing that she must know what he had done, regardless of how she might react to it, he framed her face between his hands.

“Yes, it has to do with your father,” he said somberly.

He took her by a hand and led her to a chair before the fireplace.

After she was comfortably in the chair, he scooted another chair over and sat down and faced her. He gazed intently into her eyes.

“Today, Flame, when I returned home from my ride with you and Michael, I found your father here,” he said softly. “Your father asked me to go with him to the fort. He asked me to go there for a particular reason.”

He proceeded to tell her about his experience with Josiah Snelling’s ghost, and Josiah’s reason for making his unusual appearance to White Fire.

He even told her about having gone to Fort Parker, to inform on her father to the commandant of the fort. He told her that her father was going to be replaced soon, perhaps even court-martialed, and that haste must be made to avert a tragedy from happening in the Minnesota Territory.

Flame was pale from the knowledge, yet she was not all that surprised. “I have always known the ruthless side of my father,” she said solemnly. “That was, in part, why my mother divorced him.”

She eased his hands away from her face, then rose from the chair and stood staring into the gray ashes on the grate of the fireplace left from the prior evening’s cook fire.

“I . . . I . . . knew that I would have to be faced with my father’s ruthlessness when I came here to live with him,” she murmured. Then she swung around and gazed down at White Fire. “But I had to chance it,” she said, sighing. “I would have chanced anything for the possibility of finding you.”

White Fire rose and drew Flame into his arms. Their eyes met and held. “You cared that much for a man you had only met that one time?” he murmured. “Does that mean that you care twice as much for that man now? Enough to marry him?”

“Yes, oh, yes,” Flame said, shivering with delight when his lips came to hers in a powerful, heated kiss.

She clung to him as their bodies strained together hungrily. She was blinded with the rush of need that overwhelmed her. She wanted so much more than an embrace . . . than a kiss. She wanted all of him!

Yet she could not be shameful enough to reveal this need to him by speaking it aloud. She hoped that her kiss, her body pressed hungrily against his, would be enough for him to know that she wanted to make love with him.

Her body was one massive heartbeat as he kissed her a moment longer, then he stepped away from her.

r /> “Flame, should your father discover that it was I who turned him in for his illegal activities, who is to say what he will do?” White Fire said. “For certain he will do everything within his power to keep us apart.”

He clasped his hands onto her shoulders. “Flame, marry me,” he said huskily. “Marry me today, before it’s too late.”