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The depth of tenderness in his eyes nearly stole her breath. “No, it does not displease me. I only wanted to know it in the language we share so that I can whisper it to you in the night.”

An ache of need like the one she had experienced in the pool flooded through her, and she looked back at her sewing, unable to comment.

“Do you still miss your white family?” he asked.

She couldn’t look up. “Yes. I always will, just as you will miss the family you left behind.”

“I am sorry you will never see them again.”

“So am I.” She glanced up and met his gaze. “For both of us.” Another silence fell between them as darkness gathered in the valley. “What will we do when we can no longer stay here?”

Thus far Sun Hawk had been acting on instinct and had no particular plan in mind. He might not have confessed his indecision to anyone else for fear it would make him look weak, but he knew he had to be honest with his wife. “I am not certain, beloved.”

Skylar gathered the endearment to her heart and held it close. “Will we join Geronimo?”

“There may be no other choice,” he replied sadly. “We will travel north for a while longer until the soldiers stop searching for us, but when the snows come, we must go south. Only Geronimo and his people are in the south, and we cannot survive alone.”

“Geronimo’s raids have already killed many people who did him no wrong,”

she reminded him. “Will you be able to kill if he says it must be done?”

“I will do whatever I must to keep you safe and alive,” he repeated.

“We will not be safe with Geronimo.”

“Then we will find a safe place,” he promised her, though he knew it was a promise he could never keep.

Skylar knew it, too, but for this one moment it didn’t matter.

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It had grown too dark to see the rents and tears in the leggings she was mending, and when Sun Hawk began laying out his blankets next to the fire, Skylar put her sewing away. A knot of fear and anticipation formed in her throat, but she swallowed it down.

This was the course she had chosen. No other was open to her, and though she would have given the world to change the circumstances, she could not regret having met Sun Hawk or having grown to love him. Fate had ripped her from her life of security and replaced it with the love of this man.

Whatever event fate planned for her next she would share with Sun Hawk.

He slipped between his blankets and turned his back to the fire, offering Skylar one final chance to change her mind. She wouldn’t, of course, but she had no notion of what she should do next. What she had learned of Apache customs from the Mescaleros had not included the tutoring of a bride for her wedding night.

Clearly, though, it was she who must make the first move, so she cast all thoughts of embarrassment aside, removed her moccasins, and stood. She slipped out of her dress, closing her mind to the way the cool night air felt to her feverish skin as she circled the fire. When she knelt beside Sun Hawk, he turned to her.

A small moan sounded in his throat as he looked at her naked body silhouetted by the red embers of the fire. Reverently he reached out and placed his hands on her waist, then moved them up slowly, savoring the feel of her skin. He came to his knees in front of her, and as he filled his hands with the globes of her breasts he pressed his lips against her throat.

Skylar gasped at the dual sensual assault and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her head fell back, offering his seeking mouth whatever it wished to take, and his hands moved lower, sliding down her flanks until he cupped her buttocks and pulled her to him. Skylar felt the hard ridge of his manhood beneath the breechclout pressing into her belly and it brought a fresh ache of desire to her. She gasped as his mouth found her breast, suckling one, then the other, until her gasps became whimpers.

She wove her hands into his hair as he lowered her to the blanket, and when his knee slipped between hers, Skylar opened herself to him. Poised above her, he looked into her eyes and whispered her name in a lover’s voice as he joined their bodies into one.

“You are mine now,” he said hoarsely again and again as he pressed into her, carrying her past the first jolt of pain to the place where there was only searing heat, blinding light, and a bond of love that could never be broken.

The difference between the pseudo-ladylike Rayna who had boarded the train with Meade on Friday and the woman who met him in the lobby of the 170

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Holbrook Hotel on Saturday morning was the difference between night and day. Gone was the demure traveling suit with lace at the collar. In its place were boots, Levi’s, and a mannish shirt and vest. Her hair was drawn away from her face into a thick golden braid that fell almost to her waist. What startled him most, though, was the Colt revolver strapped efficiently around her hips.

Rayna was conscious of him watching her as she came down the stairs, but she couldn’t decide if his expression was one of shock or disapproval—or equal parts of both.

“Which do you object to more, the pants or the Colt?” she asked tartly before he could say so much as a good morning.

“Can you use the Colt?” he asked.

“Probably better than you can.”

He let the insult roll off him. “Then I don’t object to either. Frankly, I didn’t expect you to ride Triton sidesaddle.”

She smiled at him. “Good. That will save us another argument when I go to buy a saddle. Now, shall we purchase our provisions? I’d like to be on the trail as soon as possible.”

“By all means.” He gestured toward the door, and she preceded him out of the hotel and down the street to the mercantile.

If all went well, which was certainly not guaranteed, the trip would take the better part of four days, but they kept their rations and cooking supplies simple. Amazingly enough, they found nothing to argue over in the selection.

At Rayna’s insistence, they split the cost of the supplies, and then she purchased a saddle and a simple felt hat. What surprised Meade was that she also selected a Winchester repeating rifle that matched the caliber of her Colt.

She shot him a defiant look as she paid for the lot, but Meade made no comment because he was thinking of the horse she had purchased and what it had cost to ship the animal to Holbrook. Then there had been her train fare, her room at the hotels in Santa Fe and Holbrook, and now this. Their journey had barely begun, and already she had spent an outrageous amount of money without showing any concern that she might run short of funds.

He shouldered her new saddle as she picked up the burlap sack of provisions and moved toward the door. “Rayna, exactly how much money are you carrying on you?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“Enough to see me through this trip.”

“Where is it?”

She shot a startled look at him as she thought of the narrow money belt strapped beneath her shirt. “That’s none of your business!”

“It is if I’m going to be protecting a king’s ransom as well as your virtue.”

“Rest easy, Meade. I’ll protect my own virtue and whatever else I have about my person. You just get us to Fort Apache,” she advised as he held the 171

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door open for her. They left the store without noticing the two men who were playing a game of checkers over the cracker barrel near the door.