It was something she could not allow to happen.
Uneasily, Angelia bit her lip. One would think that she would have learned better than to have become smitten with a man like Swift Hawk. After all, hadn’t she lived her life in the shadow of her father? Hadn’t she witnessed too closely the results of championing the underdog?
What had she been thinking?
Clearly, she hadn’t been thinking. That was part of the problem. Make no mistake, she had fallen for Swift Hawk…hard.
Though it had been only the one morning, she knew that theirs was a meeting of the spirit, a coming together not only of body, but of soul. It was a strange feeling, one she had not thus far experienced. Deep in her heart she knew that no matter what the future might hold, the affair was one she would cherish all her life.
But she was going to have to do something about it. What?
Of course it went without saying that she and Julian would have to be even more diligent and cautious than ever. From now on, they would have to be constantly alert for news, in case that news carried information about them. Further, they would have to watch more closely for the appearance of bounty hunters or government agents within this caravan.
But what about herself and Swift Hawk?
She supposed that if she didn’t care so much about these two men in her life, she and Swift Hawk could continue to sneak off together.Ifthey could find a place where no one would see them. But that just wasn’t right. Forget for the moment that such an action would label her as a woman of easy virtue. Forget, too, the danger. There was simply something inherently wrong with having to steal away, as though a love so beautiful should be hidden.
Besides, in a wagon train of this size, it was almost impossible to do anything unnoticed, and sneaking around would, sooner or later, be found out. And when it was discovered—as it surely would be—not only would there be trouble for Swift Hawk, but speculations would be made about her. Someone might investigate her further, might come to learn of Julian’s deception, as well as her crime, and his.
But if not an affair with Swift Hawk, then whatwasshe to do? End it? She feared this might be her only choice.
Your life, and mine, may change now. But do not worry. When two people wish it, the impossible can be theirs.The words came back to haunt her. That day, Swift Hawk had left her with this thought. His speech had done much at the time to fill her with promise, with hope, and with the idea that maybe, if they both worked at it, they could create a bit of heaven, here in this prairie wilderness.
She wanted that heaven too. She let her mind drift back to that time only a few days ago…
True to his word,Swift Hawk had helped her to dress that day, and the style of the white woman’s clothing had brought expressions to his countenance that were most amusing.
Holding one of her petticoats up to his waist, Swift Hawk had given her a puzzled look.
“Is this a dress?” he asked.
“No,” she replied with a smile. “It is a petticoat.”
“A coat? Do white women wear coats, like the white men do?”
“Yes, women do, but this is not a coat.”
“That is good…” he grinned at her, “…for I see no holes in it for the arms.”
Angelia shook her head at him. “Be serious.”
“I am serious.”
She had snatched the petticoat from him and had commenced dressing herself. In truth, she had almost completed the task, had sat down to pull on her hose and boots, when Swift Hawk, coming onto one knee, had bent down before her. In his hands, he held both hose and boots. Looking up at her, he said, “Do you wish to take my duty from me?”
“Your duty?”
He nodded. “It is my duty to help dress you. But I have done very little thus far. The least you can do is allow me to clothe your feet with”—he glanced at her boots with somedislike—“these.”
She smiled. “I would be most honored, sir, if you would be so kind.”
Kneeling before her, he had pulled her hose up and over her knee. He accomplished the action with much pomp and ceremony, massaging first her calf muscles, then her feet.
“Hmm, that feels good.”
“It should. The feet and leg muscles bear the brunt of all we do, and seldom do they receive the attention they deserve.”
“How true. How true.”
