When Passion Calls

Overwhelmed by the ecstasy, tears splashed from Melanie's eyes. She slowly opened them when she felt Shane kissing the tears away, then seared her lips with a kiss of fire. She clung to him, radiantly happy.

The aroma of medicine was almost overpowering as Shane sat at his father's bedside. A lone candle flickered on the nightstand beside the bed, casting dancing shadows on Jared's ashen face. Shane sank a washcloth into a basin of water, lifted it and wrung it out, then gently applied the dampened cloth to his father's brow.

"That feels good, son," Jared said, wheezing. "First I'm hot, then cold. If I didn't know better, I'd say my old ticker was about to give out on me. Every breath I take is such . . . such an effort."

"Father, you're going to last forever," Shane said, yet doubting his words. His father had worsened since he saw him last. He had not only slept the afternoon away, but most of the evening, as well. It seemed to be not only an effort for him to breathe, but to stay awake. "You'll see. You're much stronger than you give yourself credit for."

Jared reached a trembling hand from beneath his layer of blankets and patted Shane on the knee,

appraising him as he looked him up and down. "Melanie has good taste in clothes," he said, chuckling. He winked slowly. "And men, also. Shane, don't let her slip from between your fingers. She'll make you a fine wife. It's as though she's been waiting for you to come back. She hasn't given any other man the time of the day." He chuckled beneath his breath. "Not even your brother Josh. Seems there's a lot of friction between them two. Ever since they've known each other they've argued about this or that."

He coughed, almost turning blue from the effort, then again patted Shane's knee. "But I saw how she looked at you, son. She adores you. Take advantage of it. Marry her. She's right for you." He closed his eyes as his words faded away. "Yep, she's right for you."

"Father?" Shane said, alarmed at how quickly his father seemed to drift back into sleep. He dropped the washcloth into the basin and took his father's hand and held onto it tightly. "Father, are you all right?"

Jared laughed a strangled sort of laugh and opened his eyes slowly. "Don't fret none," he said, nodding. "I'm not going to leave you just yet. We've much more to talk over, you and I."

Shane inhaled a shaky breath, relieved that his father had not slipped into a sound sleep again after all. He smiled down at his father, wanting so badly to share his moments with Melanie with him, knowing that he would be happy.

But it did not seem the proper thing to doto tell a father about having made love only a few

hours ago with the woman of his father's choice. These sorts of things were talked about between close, best friends, but not between fathers and sons.

"What do you want to talk about?" Shane asked, moving his chair closer.

"Tell me again about your life as an Indian," Jared said, his eyes wavering. "Tell me about those sonofabitch white men pretending to be Indians who killed everyone, about the Indian chief who took you away from the scene of the massacre. Did you ever call him father, Shane? Did he become a substitute father for you?"

Shane firmed his jaw as his eyes clouded with memories. It had not been that long since he had said his last goodbyes to the old chief, a father to him for so many years. And now he was so close to saying another goodbye, this time to his true father.

It tore at his heart, this torture of having to say so many goodbyes so often!

"Chief Standing Tall did not take me to raise me as his son," Shane explained. "I was raised with another family. The old chief and I became close, but never did I call him father."

"Tell me about this old chief and what he taught you," Jared said, gasping for breath as a sharp pain shot through his lungs, then his heart. He tried to stay calm, not wanting to alert Shane that the pain was so severe.

These last few moments were too precious.

Shane began his story again, repeating everything that he had told his father earlier. He

ignored Josh as he came into the room and sat down at the bed opposite him, watching him with intent interest as he related the story of his Indian life.

Melanie paced back and forth in the parlor, the fire on the hearth warm at her side. She flipped her hair back from her shoulders as she looked up at the ceiling, sighing heavily. Something told her that she should be with Shane, that he needed her. Was it his father? Was he worse? Or was she concerned over leaving Shane alone with Josh and his humiliations and insinuations?

"Melanie, you're going to wear a hole in the carpet if you don't stop that damned pacing," Terrance said, pouring himself another glass of whiskey. He slouched down on the sofa, already glassy-eyed and lightheaded from too much to drink. "Sit down, damn it. You're driving me crazy."

Melanie stopped in mid-step and turned to look down at Terrance. She shook her head, disgusted at the sight of him. "Must you drink so much?" she said, glaring at him. "How can you even be aware of what I am doing? You're almost drunk again, Terrance. Don't you have any pride? Don't you see what you're doing to yourself?"

Terrance returned her glare with one of his own as he tipped the glass to his lips again and

guzzled down the last of the whiskey. He looked Melanie up and down, seeing her as too ravishingly lovely in her fully-gathered pale green silk dress with its low-cut bodice. Shane had also seen how lovely she was and had taken advantage of it. Had he come back not only to claim his portion of the Brennan riches, but to get his hands on Melanie, as well, to gain control of her portion of the Stanton riches?

Melanie and Shane had surely shared in more than purchasing a new wardrobe for him this afternoon, for she had come home with stars in her eyes! Even now her cheeks were pink and her eyes were glowing. Had things gone farther than kisses between them? Would Shane dare . . . ?

Yes, he thought angrily. Shane more than likely had coerced her into intimacy! He had been raised in the wilderness, hadn't he? He had no more morals than a damn savage!

"You condemn me for drinking while you gallivant around town with a man who was raised by Indians, surely even thinks like one?" Terrance said, angrily tossing the glass against the brick fireplace, shattering it. He rose to his feet and grabbed Melanie by the shoulders. "Melanie, where's your pride? Where?"

Beneath her brother's accusing eyes, Melanie felt a hot blush rush to her cheeks. She was recalling her afternoon with Shane, and where it had taken themto paradise, just as Shane had promised! And she would not let her brother make it ugly! She loved Shane. He loved her. In time, they would shout to the world of this love!