When Passion Calls

"Yes, I believe that you would be as feisty and unpredictable even then," Shane said, running his hands over her round belly.

His eyes shadowed in thought as he looked over his shoulder at the window, and his insides tightened when he saw the thick veil of snow that continued to fall.

He looked down at Melanie again. "Darling, there is something that I need to do and it cannot include you," he said. "You must stay behind and protect our unborn child. Stay in the house and keep warm. Eat plenty of nourishing food. I will return in time to witness our child's birth."

Melanie paled. She took a shaky step back from Shane. "What do you mean, you will return?" she said, her voice drawn. "Where are you going?" She looked toward the window and a shiver stung her when she saw the fierceness of the storm outside. She pleaded with her eyes at Shane. ''You can't." She slowly shook her head and place

d a hand to her mouth. "You can't be planning to . . ."

She lunged into Shane's arms. "No!" she cried. "I won't let you! You can't travel to the Indian village in this weather." She drew away from him and studied the haunted look in his eyes. "Oh, God, that is where you plan to go, isn't it? I know how concerned you have been over the people at

the Chippewa village. I know you fear for them. But, Shane, you just can't leave in this blizzard to go to them. What good would it do?"

Again she crept into his arms and hugged him to her. "Shane, I thought you had forgotten your past," she cried. "You have seemed so content."

Shane placed his hands to her shoulders and eased her away from him. "Never will they be entirely from my blood," he said. "Especially now, in their time of need." He looked at the window, hearing the bellow of the longhorns. "We have meat that could keep many of the Chippewa alive. We have milk for the babies! I must take it to them!"

Melanie wiped tears from her eyes and choked back a sob. "But, Shane, what of me? What of our child?" she said, her voice breaking. "If you go out in that blizzard, I may never see you again! If you lost your way . . ."

"Never would I lose my way," Shane said in a low growl. "Not even in the worst storm! Now let me pass and sort through our cattle and choose which of them I will take to the Chippewa." He placed a hand to Melanie's cheek, caressing her trembling chin with his thumb. "Our loss will also be our gain, darling. Our hearts will be at peace, always, remembering the lives that will be saved because of our gesture of friendship."

Melanie sniffled and wiped more tears from her cheeks as she looked up into Shane's eyes. "You are such a compassionate man," she murmured. "You are so good." She crept back into his arms.

"How can I deny you this that you ask of me when I know you are doing it from the goodness of your heart?"

"Then I can go with your blessing?"

"Yes, but please hurry back to me. I could not bear it if anything happened to you."

"Our child will see my face the moment it is born," Shane whispered, burrowing his nose into the jasmine scent of her hair. "I promise you that, Melanie."

"Shane, if I weren't pregnant, I would go with you," Melanie said, hugging him tightly.

"I'm sure you would give it a try," Shane said, chuckling.

"No, Shane, not just a try," Melanie said sternly. "I would go with you."

Shane nodded. He knew that she would. He tilted her chin upward and directed his mouth to her lips. He kissed her long and sweet, then spun away from her. "Now that ought to hold you until I get back," he said, plopping a heavy, wide-brimmed hat on his head.

Melanie walked him to the door. They embraced one long last time, then Shane opened the door and the snow that had drifted against it tumbled inside.

Shane turned and eyed Melanie as snow blew in on her lovely, innocent face. "Go and sit by the fire and rid yourself of the chill," he said, then closed the door, separating them from each other, for days, perhaps weeks.

Melanie ran to the window and watched Shane

trudging through the snow toward the bunkhouse. She sighed with relief. He was not going to attempt to travel alone. He was going to recruit help.

Snow still clinging to her eyelashes and hair like minute crystal pellets, she rushed to the fireplace and knelt down before it. Her eyes blurred with more tears, knowing just how cold Shane was going to be while battling the raging storm.

Could he, in fact, freeze in the saddle, as some of the cattle had frozen in their tracks in the pasture? Oh, would he truly return to her and their unborn child? Was fate going to take him away from her after all?

She had fought so hard to win him!

The snow was deep and blowing, and Shane's breath froze as it escaped his mouth, crystalizing on his chin and lips. But he pushed relentlessly onward. Crouched low over his horse's mane, he looked over his shoulder at the men trailing the cattle behind him, and at the wagon, upon which had been placed many bales of hay so that the cows would have something to feast upon while giving their sweet milk to the Chippewa babiesat least until the snows stopped falling, and grass began to grow in the early spring. The rest of the longhorns would be slaughtered as soon as they reached the village.

Everyone, even the cattle, seemed to be faring well enough. It seemed as though something or someone were there protecting them. Perhaps the old chief's spirit was watching over them. His people depended on the safe arrival of the steers.

Turning his eyes back ahead, peering at the snow-shrouded, low-hanging branches of the trees, Shane's gut twisted at the sudden mournful wails wafting through the air. His hair bristled at the nape of his neck, knowing that the village was near. The people were in mourning! That meant that someone important had died, or was near death!