When Passion Calls

Shane turned to Melanie. He looked down at her with a gentle passion, his blue eyes sparkling with happiness. He smoothed the lace back from her face and placed his fingers on her cheeks. He leaned down and touched her lips wonderingly, aware of many eyes on them as the guests looked on, moved.

Melanie's insides melted as her lips met Shane's. She twined an arm about his neck and kissed him softly, aware of the guests from St. Paul and surrounding farms watching, seemingly happy with her choice of husband. No one seemed to mind that Shane had been raised with Indians.

It seemed to Melanie that finally that part of his past was behind him. He rarely spoke of the Chippewa. Daphne was the only reminder, and she was adapting well to her new life. She even stood watching the ceremony in a silk gown, flounced with yards of lace, her dark hair spiraling in long coils of curls down her perfectly straight back.

Melanie drew away from Shane, looked up into his eyes again, and smiled. Then she turned to gaze warmly at Daphne. Deliberately, she tossed her bridal bouquet in Daphne's direction.

Daphne's eyes lit up and she smiled widely as she caught the bouquet and hugged it to her chest.

But there was a trace of sadness in her eyes as one hand slipped down to her stomach. Melanie was not the only one who was with child. The

trapper had impregnated Daphne before she had been rescued.

Laughing giddily, Melanie went to Daphne and hugged her. "Everything is going to be all right," she whispered. "One day you'll find a man who will give your child a father. Until then, you will share your child with me, Shane, and our child."

Daphne draped an arm around Melanie's neck. "Mee-gway-chee-wahn-dum, thank you," she whispered. "You are so kind. I love you, Melanie."

"I love you, too," Melanie whispered, then drew away from her and went to stand at Shane's side as people began to mill around them, offering a congratulatory handshake.

Soon Melanie's jaws began to ache from her incessant smiling. She gave Shane occasional glances, seeing the radiance in his eyes, proof of his happiness.

Then there was a thundering of hoofbeats outside. Melanie and Shane exchanged wondering glances, then moved, arm in arm, down the long corridor and outside onto the wide veranda that ran along the entire front of the mansion.

Melanie's insides froze when she saw the mass of Indians on horseback who now stood motionlessly before the house, especially when she recognized Chief Gray Falcon among them.

She welcomed Shane's possessive arm around her waist, recalling so vividly that night when she was abducted.

"Gray Falcon, you are disturbing my wedding day," Shane said, looking his old friend over carefully. Gray Falcon wore his fanciest headdress

of at least a hundred feathers tumbling down his back in a profusion of colors. His clothing was of white doeskin, bedecked with colorful beads and porcupine quills shaped in many colorful designs. He carried no weapon. His usual stoic expression showed something akin to friendship, his jaw and lips relaxed.

"Why have you come?" Shane asked. "It has been many sleeps since I left my hair in your hand to prove that I no longer wanted any part of your life. I feel no different now."

"I have come in peace, bearing many gifts," Gray Falcon said, nodding toward many horses that were being led toward Shane and Melanie. "My scouts brought me news of your wedding. The gifts are for your wedding. Please take them in friendship."

Gray Falcon gestured toward a great strawberry roan that a brave was singling out from the rest. "Come, my brother," he offered Shane. "I give you my best horse! Get on his back with your woman and come with me to my village!"

Shane's eyes narrowed as some Chippewa braves began securing the horses' reins to a hitching rail. "Remove the horses!" he shouted. He gestured with his free hand toward them as he stared coldly into Gray Falcon's eyes. "I need nothing from you anymore. Go. Your friendship comes too late."

Chief Gray Falcon frowned and leaned over his pommel. "Gray Falcon was wrong about many things," he said in an almost whisper, his voice

drawn. "Gray Falcon misses your companionship. Come home, Shane. We can have a new beginning!"

"Can't you see that I am now married?" Shane said, squaring his shoulders. He drew Melanie close to his side. "This is my home." He looked down at Melanie, a softness in his eyes. "This is our home."

Again he looked up at Gray Falcon. "Please go, Gray Falcon," he said thickly. "We have nothing else to say to one another. You are responsible for too much ugliness in my life. It is not easy to forget Cedar Maid. It is not easy to forget that you abducted my woman, or that you sent me away when I did not want to go!"

"So you send me away?"

"Yes. Now. Please leave."

Chief Gray Falcon stared into Shane's eyes a moment. "Gah-ween-nee-nee-sis-eh-tos-say-non," he said, his voice a monotone. "Mee-suh-ay-oo!"

Gray Falcon then wheeled his horse around and began riding away. He shouted to his braves for them to follow him, the horses trailing behind them.

Shane watched, feeling as though a part of his heart was being torn in shreds, for he so wanted to join the braves. He so wanted to tell Gray Falcon that all was forgiven! He hungered for the hunt on horseback with his Chippewa companions! He hungered for the wigwam, and the feeling of freedom that living in such a simple way gave him.

Shaking his head to clear his mind of such