Love and Cherish Page 10

  It all happened so fast Cherish wasn’t sure it had happened at all, but the song in her heart gave lightness to her feet as she followed him down the hill.

  * * *

  They followed the pattern of walking at night and sleeping during the day for the next two days and nights, then switched again to walking in the daylight hours. They rarely spoke, for they were always alert to danger. Cherish began to feel that she was a part of Sloan and he a part of her; and as she walked along behind him, she knew that she would rather be here with him, facing danger and possible death, than in any place in all the world.

  Cherish had been constantly tired during the first few days and nights of travel, but gradually she toughened until she could carry her own blanket roll without suffering extreme fatigue. She developed an awe of the wilderness, marveling at its beauty, respecting its unpredictability.

  Ten days after they left Pierre beside the Kentucky, the sun failed to shine and the wind changed, blowing with frigid breath out of the northwest. By evening the air was so cold that Sloan stopped and wrapped Cherish’s blanket about her, saying nothing, then moving on, watching the rolling sky. They came to a game trail which made the going easier, but the air was colder and hinted to Sloan of impending snow. It was the last part of October and a premature blizzard was not uncommon in the Ohio valley.

  They stopped for water when their path brought them within yards of a running stream. Sloan let Cherish rest for a moment. When he rose again, she rose doggedly and followed him. He wanted to move faster but was reluctant to push her strength to the limit. Suddenly the wind died and quiet fell in the forest, along with the first intermittent snowflakes. Within an hour the flakes were falling fast, huge, fluffy, and thick. The wind picked up again, driving the blowing snow. Cherish was not frightened, but she felt increasingly anxious as the snow whipped around them.

  Before darkness set in, Sloan took her arm and led her off the trail in search of shelter. The falling snow made it difficult to see, but he finally found a huge tree that lay on its side with a depression large enough for them to shelter under its trunk. With his knife, Sloan stripped the surrounding pine trees of their lower branches and layered them in the depression. He cut larger boughs and propped them along the sides of the log. Inside the shelter he spread Cherish’s blanket and motioned for her to enter. Leaving several large boughs within reach of the entrance, Sloan crawled in after her, and Brown snuggled in beside him.

  Sloan pulled the boughs over the opening and stripped off his buckskin shirt. They were both thoroughly chilled. Cherish huddled in her shawl shaking uncontrollably, clenching her jaws tightly to keep her teeth from chattering. Her hands and legs were numb with cold. Her stomach rumbled and she swallowed miserably. She was almost weak from hunger.

  “You’ll be warmer without that wet dress,” Sloan said gently.

  She glanced vacantly at him, as if she hadn’t heard.

  “Come. I’ll help you.” He reached out to remove her shawl.

  She remained silent, but turned away from him.

  “Cherish,” he said firmly, “your dress is wet from the snow. Take it off. We’ll wrap ourselves in the blankets and our body heat will help us keep each other warm.”

  She twisted away. “No!” she said harshly.

  “Yes! If we want to live through this night we must keep warm.” He grabbed the shawl then and started to unbutton her dress.

  There was no response from her at first, nothing. But suddenly she turned on him, beating her fists against his arms and chest. At the same time she began to cry. There was surprising strength left in her, and he let her pound away at him while he removed the dress.

  “Leave me alone!” Her voice rose with emotion. “Don’t touch me.” She was close to hysteria. He was helpless to reason with her. She went on in an anguished outburst, “I’ll die anyway. It might as well be now. I can’t take anymore of this godforsaken wilderness. I can’t . . . I can’t—”

  The tears ran down her cheeks. He reached out to draw her trembling body into his arms, and his touch broke down the last vestige of control. She began to sob hysterically. Sloan straightened the covers over them and held her while she cried. Her body was taut as a bow string, her limbs so icy cold that he feared they might be frostbitten. He held her tightly to him, rolled her over onto her back and partially covered her chilled body with his own, trying desperately to impart his body heat to her.

  “Relax against me. I’ll get you warm.”

  “No!” she sobbed. “I’ll never be warm. Never!”

  “Yes, you will. I promise you will.”

  His hands moved down her thin body. He rubbed first one cold thigh and then the other. Gently he stroked her from shoulder to knee, hoping to quiet her as well as to warm her. Gradually the tension began to leave her, and he felt her muscles slowly relax. She lay quiet for a long time. At last she reached an arm up, encircled his neck and buried her face in the warm curve of his shoulder. He rolled off her then, pulled her to him and tucked the blankets firmly about them. She didn’t speak or move and finally she fell asleep.

  * * *

  Cherish woke slowly and lay listening to the soft sound of Sloan’s breathing against her ear. Her back was pressed tightly to his chest, her head lay on his arm, and his arms and legs were wrapped around her. She was deliciously warm! Heavenly warm! Memory returned and she squirmed uncomfortably, thinking of her actions earlier. Sloan’s arms tightened around her.

  “Are you warm?” he murmured.

  “Oh, yes! Sloan—?”

  “Mumm—?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “You know—”

  “Forget it,” he whispered, raising his head so that his lips touched just below her ear. “You’ve done real well. I was beginning to think that you had no woman’s weakness at all.”

  “You saved my life and I thank you.”

  “You saved mine and I thank you.”

  She giggled. “We’re being silly.”

  He brushed away a tendril of hair that clung to her cheek. Cherish could feel his lips smiling against her skin. Not wanting to disturb the magic of the moment, she remained silent.

  Presently she asked, “Is your back cold?”

  “Brown’s snuggled up to my back.”

  She laughed softly, then held her breath. Her heart began to pound, and she was sure he must feel it beating. A warm tide of tingling excitement flooded her. She was suddenly cold, then hot and trembling. Her mind whirled giddily, for although she had never seen a man when he was aroused, she had seen stallions in rut and she had no doubt about what was pressing against her buttocks. Warmth began to spread down her breast and across her belly and loins and thighs. Warm languorous pleasure, the sensitivity of the flesh. Sloan stirred and slowly turned her toward him.

  As innocent as any young female animal that responds by instinct, Cherish pressed against him. She lifted her face to meet his kiss, her trembling lips parting as his mouth possessed hers. His kisses were suddenly savage, fierce. Time seemed to verge on eternity before he released her lips, only to capture them again. His hand slid down her back and pressed her hips tighter against him. The fire in his loins was raging and he trembled violently. Cherish tore her mouth from his, her body cringed away in sudden alarm.

  “Are you afraid?” Sloan fought down his desire and lay quietly.

  “I can’t help it!” Her anguish was apparent in her voice. “I want you to . . . to . . . but I’m afraid.”

  She tilted her head back and her eyes searched his in desperation, fear growing that he would turn away from her now.

  He pulled her to him.

  “I frightened you,” he said huskily. “It’s been so long for me that I forgot what it must be like for you.” His lips pressed soft kisses on her face.

  “You said it would be beautiful,” she whispered. “But all I’ve ever heard about it is the pain and the . . . shame. Am I shameless for wanting you? Is it wrong fo
r me to want, Sloan? Tell me.”

  Sloan smoothed her hair and drew his mouth along the line of her jaw. His parted lips touched hers briefly before he answered.

  “Why should it be shameful? The coming together of a man and a woman is as natural as the sun rising. You’ve never been kissed, have you, love?”

  “Not the way you kiss me.”

  He put his hand to the back of her head and pulled her to him. As their lips came together, he parted his, forcing hers apart as well. He could feel the charge of passion that leaped between them. For a very long time they held the kiss, before they separated.

  “I love your kisses, Sloan.”

  “There’s more, love, much more.”

  Cherish felt the thunderous beating of his heart against her nearly naked breast and the trembling in his arms as he held his passions in check.

  “As for the pain,” his voice was hoarse and his breathing ragged in her ear, “if your desire is strong enough you’ll not mind the pain. It is possible you’ll have none, but if you do it will be only the first time.” He took a deep breath, trying to forestall his desire. “Don’t let your fear make you unresponsive. I want you to like doing it as much as I do, but in all honesty, I must tell you it may not be possible the first time.”

  He drew back and his eyes searched her face. She was wide-eyed and he smiled at her innocence.

  “That doesn’t mean you won’t enjoy it. If not this time, surely the next. Like everything else, it isn’t always perfect. Do you understand?”

  Her face was tantalizingly close. She trembled against him. Her reply was to press her warm lips to his cheek.

  “Forget everything you’ve heard.” His voice was thick with emotion. “Give yourself up to me.”

  He caressed her with his lips and stroked her body with his hands, pushing away the chemise. He bent his head to kiss the soft firmness of her breast and felt her body go rigid at the boldness of his touch.

  “It’s all right, sweetheart. I’m loving you. Love me, honey. Love me. It will make it better for both of us.”

  With something like wonder, she felt along his lean ribs and the hard-muscled waist. Their breaths merged and became one as his open mouth sought and found hers. His hand moved farther down her body to her hips and her thighs. There, his fingers began stroking, kneading, massaging. When she began to respond to his caresses, his fingers moved to her secret place.

  Cherish’s world careened crazily beneath the urgency of his caress. She was swept along in a violent storm of passion and lost her last touch with reality. The naked hunger that caught her was both sweet and violent. She felt his hands beneath her buttocks lifting her up and she opened her thighs to him.

  Sloan came between her legs and entered a little way into her. There he stayed and kissed her without hurry, himself feeling the most wonderful of all touches as the membrane guarding her virginity thinned and yielded to his throbbing phallus. Cherish let out a low whimper of pain that was lost in his mouth. Then there was only the giving and the sharing. They were one, belonging, possessing and a thousand twinkling stars blending together.

  In the interval of extreme pleasure Sloan put everything aside, save this headlong quest for fulfillment for her and for himself. He forgot the Indians, the cold, the long trip ahead, and only thought of their hunger to be satisfied. The ecstasy hung in explosive potential, easily attainable, but he postponed it to prolong the delicious agony of the quest.

  Finally it happened. They reached the peak, but there was much more than momentary pleasure. The strength of his passion for her left him shaking. She had touched the deepest innermost part of him. As he held her tightly to him, he could believe they were the only two people on earth. For the moment they were one.

  When it was over, Cherish lay warm and secure in his arms, knowing a strange peace she had found nowhere else. There had been a little pain but no sense of having sinned because she had found pleasure. It was beautiful, beautiful, just as Sloan had said it would be.

  She sighed contentedly and kissed the side of his neck where she nestled. He raised his head and studied her carefully. He stretched out a finger and leisurely traced a line down her neck and over the swelling curve of her breast. Her soft mouth parted with yearning, and he leaned down to her and kissed her waiting lips, touching his tongue to hers. Her eyes grew dark, like two bottomless pools staring up at him, and her face glowed as radiantly as the sun on a clear day.

  Relief flowed through him and he pulled her head up and kissed her long and tenderly.

  “What do you think, sweet spunky woman?” he asked softly. “Do you feel like a shameless doxy?”

  She laughed against his face and twisted her fingers in his hair without answering. He chuckled and nibbled at the soft flesh of her shoulder. His hand descended to cup her small breast, then glided over her smooth hips. His wandering caresses made her quiver. His kisses on her mouth were warm, devouring, fierce with passion. She felt the bold urgency of him against her and thrust forward in eager anticipation. Then he was a flame within her, consuming her, taking her way beyond herself. Waves of unbearable pleasure flooded her as they were caught up together in a surging, swelling tide of rapture.

  Cherish heard his harsh breathing in her ear and his hoarse, whispered, caressing words.

  “Sweet, sweet woman, will I ever stop underestimating you?”

  She was silent for a long while, filled with unbounded happiness. She pulled his head down until it rested on her shoulder. Her lips traced his eyebrows and the lines on his forehead. Finally she whispered, in a voice filled with wonder, “In my wildest dreams I didn’t imagine it would be like this.”

  “You don’t dread doing it again?”

  “No. Not with you. Did you like doing it with me?”

  “You silly, sweet girl!” He laughed, kissed the curve of her throat and ran his hand lovingly down the full length of her until she caught it and held it tightly beneath the fullness of her breast. “We’d better get some sleep. We’ve got a ways to go tomorrow.”

  She sighed. “I don’t think I’ll ever sleep again. I feel so good.”

  He chuckled and kissed her lightly. “Well, try, sweetheart.”

  Obediently she turned over, snuggled close to him and was soon asleep.

  CHAPTER

  * 12 *

  A tickling on her face roused her. She opened her eyes slowly. Sloan was leaning over her, brushing her face and nose with the end of her braid. She focused her eyes on his face and a smile curved her lips.

  “It’s time to get up, sleepy-head. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  She reached out to him and discovered he was fully dressed in his buckskins and was lying on top of the blanket covering her. Happiness was reflected in her face when he bent down to kiss her. As their lips touched, her arms came up and closed tightly about him. All shyness between them was gone. In its place was an intimacy so precious that Cherish could scarcely believe it. Sloan was aware of it, too, for he held her close in his arms for a long moment, unwilling to break the spell.

  “Get dressed, lazy-bones!” he ordered. “Come and see what Brown and I have got for your breakfast.”

  Laughing, Cherish threw off the blanket—and caught her breath sharply as cold air hit her warm body. Gritting her chattering teeth, she dressed quickly, tying the split skirt about her legs and slipping her feet into the fur-lined moccasins and securing them around her ankles. She smoothed her hair back and wrapped the shawl over her head and around her shoulders.

  The air was cold, but the wind had died down and it had stopped snowing. Sloan had scooped the snow from a spot sheltered by the branches of the fallen tree and had built a small fire. Near the fire lay two roasted rabbits and a mug of hot steaming tea. He smiled at the look of pleasure on her face.

  “Brown and I ran them down in the snow,” he explained.

  Cherish patted the dog gently, carefully avoiding the wound on his head.

  “A few days ago I thought I could ne
ver eat another bite of rabbit, but now . . . oh, Sloan, I’m so hungry!”

  She sat on a log and ate, savoring every bite of meat and every drop of hot sweet tea. Sloan squatted and watched her.

  “It’s risky to build a fire,” he admitted, “but we need hot food. I don’t like the looks of the weather.” He hesitated, then added: “If we can keep going we should be home in three days.”

  Cherish stopped eating and looked at him, noting his serious expression.

  “We’ll make it,” he assured her. “The closer to home we get, the less likely we are to run into hostiles.”

  “I’m not worried, Sloan,” she said quietly, finishing her tea. “But shouldn’t we be going?”

  Five minutes later, the packs ready and shouldered, the fire smothered with snow, they left the spot where Cherish had known the happiest moments of her life.

  * * *

  The snow was only a few inches deep and walking wasn’t too difficult, but the air was damp and cold. Sloan followed the creek until late afternoon, then veered off. As usual, they seldom stopped and hardly ever spoke. When night came suddenly, they huddled together, their backs against a broad tree trunk, the two blankets binding them close. Cherish was so tired she fell asleep instantly, her head on Sloan’s shoulder. Brown, beginning to show the effects of the wound and the travel, sank down beside them, lending them his warmth.

  By first light they were on their way again after eating sparingly of the remaining cooked meat. Sloan slipped Cherish’s head through a hole he cut in the center of her blanket. It was getting increasingly colder; and while he had suffered cold before and could steel his mind to it, he was worried about her pinched face and the vacant look in her eyes.

  If all worked well, this should be their last night on the trail. They should reach his cabin by late tomorrow. Sloan explained this to Cherish, thinking it would raise her spirits, but she only nodded and smiled weakly at him. At one point he carried her over a small stream, stepping lightly on the slippery rocks, and marveled at how light she was even with the heavy blanket. No wonder, he thought grimly. His own stomach felt the sharp pangs of hunger.