When Passion Calls

Shane drew partially away from her, looking down at her with puzzlement. "You think that I wouldn't?" he said, his eyes darkening with emotion.

"Well, I know how you feel about beds," Melanie said. "And this most certainly is a bed."

"This is our bed," Shane corrected, brushing his tongue along her lower lip. "Never shall I let you sleep alone in it. Never."

"But the pallet of furs?"

"Gone. Just as Gray Falcon is gone."

"Will you be happy without either?"

"Very."

"Then that is all that matters," Melanie said, sighing deeply.

"Let us make love," Shane said, kissing the column of her neck lightly. "Let us share our feelings for one another with our child even as our child sleeps in your womb."

"Yes, darling," Melanie whispered, shimmering with ecstasy as he resumed his sweet strokes within her. "Let us always share everything with our child. Then let's give our child a brother or sister as quickly as possible. No child should be raised alone."

"Yes, brothers should love one another from their very beginnings," Shane said, then swallowed hard when his thoughts went to Josh, sad over his loss. "Perhaps we shall even have twins, Melanie."

"That would be wonderful," she said, weaving her fingers through his hair, hearing the soft melancholy in his voice. "That would be wonderful."

They held each other with exquisite tenderness. They made love slowly, wonderfully.

Chapter Thirty-three

Seven Months Later

Heavy with child, Melanie stood at the parlor window looking across quiet fields under skies the color of shadows, past fences hushed in snow, and at gullies mantled by the snow-laden branches of oaks and maples. The lane that led to the Brennan mansion was dusted with white and marked with the tracks of wooden wheels and horses; here and there fresh horse manure lay steaming in the chill morning air.

Melanie hugged herself when snow began falling again, first in slow, soft swirls, and then in blizzard strength. She looked toward the herd of longhorns in the corral, barely visible through the haze of snow. As many as could stayed huddled together, close to the barn.

But out on the range, those that weren't as

fortunate were looking possible death in the eye each night. Some had not survived, the ones that weren't as strong having frozen solid in the cold blasts of winds that came like the wrath of God from the north. If the snow deepened and the temperatures lowered tonight, more deaths could be expected.

Thus far there had been a record snowfall. At times, the yearling heifers had hopped over the fences like grasshoppers. The snowfall had caved in buildings. Sometimes the snow melted off the hay shed and slipped into the feeders.

Melanie turned when she heard footsteps behind her. She smiled and welcomed Shane's embrace as he moved to her side to join her at the window. "Shane, the weather is worsening," she murmured, snuggling closer to him. "I'm worried about the cattle at both farms. The loss could be great if the snow gets worse and the temperature drops again."

Shane looked past the cattle, up at the butte that stretched out into the dark depths of the forest. Though he was as concerned about the cattle as Melanie, he could not help but shift some of his concern to the Chippewa. In weather like this, when animals could freeze in their tracks, the Chippewa could suffer from starvation. He had seen it before, when a baby born in mid-winter could not survive because its mother's milk was not nourishing enough, because the mother had not eaten properly herself.

It was surely the same now for the people that he loved. There had been too many snows, too many

freezes! He was finding it hard to block out thoughts of how it must be in the Indian village even at this moment. He could see them huddled around a fire made of wood scraped from beneath layers of snow. He could see the leanness of the braves' bodies. He could see the longing, the hunger in their eyes.

"I must go to them," Shane blurted out, suddenly swinging away from Melanie. He began walking away from her, his steps determined.

Melanie turned and stared at him, not understanding. Them? Whom was he referring to? The cattle? He had never been this concerned before about them. He had done what was humanly possible to save them, and then had reconciled himself to the fact that losses could be expected. Everyone knew that the weather this winter had been the worst in years. No one expected to come out of it without losses.

Melanie followed Shane from the room and stared in wonder as he slapped his gunbelt around his waist and fastened it, then grabbed his heavy, quilted buckskin jacket and jerked his arms into the sleeves.

"Shane, where are you going?" Melanie asked, grabbing his hand. "What are you going to do?"

Shane looked down at Melanie, suddenly realizing what he was doing without any thought for his wife, who was heavy with his child. He swallowed hard and placed his hands on her swollen abdomen. He smiled when he felt their child kick against his firm grip and then move slowly.

Melanie placed her hands over Shane's and smiled up at him. "It won't be long now, darling," she said proudly. She laughed softly. "As much movement as there is, it could be twins. Yet my father said that I was an active child while within my mother's womb. Would you believe that he said I even kicked one of her ribs out of place?"