Beyond The Horizon (42 page)

“You want to go swimming?” Shannon asked, dismayed.

“It will relax us, you’ll see,” he promised. His roguish grin needed little interpreting.

He dropped the soap and towels at the gentle rise that sloped down to the water, turned Shannon around and unfastened the back of her dress. His fingers trembled as he slipped it down over her shoulders then turned her about to face him. His gaze swept over her bared flesh, his eyes avid with appreciation and wonder. Reverently he touched the pure alabaster of her breast with the tips of his fingers.

“Your skin is so soft and white,” he murmured huskily. His own large hand was like a dark splotch against her flesh.

Shannon offered her mouth and he took it, his kiss a sensual exploration of taste and texture. Then his mouth bent to the high curve of her breast, his breath scorching her skin. He found a ripe nipple, suckling her like a babe, and she rewarded him with a low moan deep in her throat. His hands grew urgent now as he slid her dress down over her hips, then removed her underclothes. He lifted her out of the circle of fabric and kicked it aside.

A gentle breeze lifted her hair, caressed her long legs and lithe body, perfectly slender yet temptingly full, her waist so tiny he could encircle it, her breasts so round and thrusting their weight filled his hands. He wanted her now, this very instant, but he forced himself to wait.

“Your clothes,” Shannon whispered, tugging on his shirt.

In a very short time he stood before her in all his naked splendor. The shifting light of the campfire behind them cast a red glow over the muscles of his shoulders and arms. Every well-sculptured inch of his magnificent body reminded her of a Greek statue she’d once seen gracing a neighbor’s garden.

Then Blade scooped her into his arms and waded into the water. It
was
warm, Shannon thought as Blade walked out a short distance and set her on her feet. The water came only to her waist.

“I forgot the soap,” he said, dashing back to the shore. He returned before Shannon even realized he was gone. “I’ll wash you first.”

He washed her arms, then her back, his rough palms creating a tantalizing friction on her sensitive skin. He devoted tender attention to her breasts, using the soap in a circular motion, then rinsing with agonizing slowness. Shannon gasped when his soap-lubricated hand disappeared beneath the water and slid up along the inside of her thigh. Her legs parted underneath the water as he caressed the soft center of her. His fingers slipped inside her and he kissed her passionately, smothering her tremulous sounds of delight. The tumult of their passion churned the water around them. Suddenly his fingers were gone, causing Shannon to groan in protest.

“Not yet, love,” Blade teased, “I haven’t had my bath.” He handed her the soap.

Shannon savored the delicious texture of his skin and the muscles beneath her fingertips, loving the way they quivered at her touch. When she reached below the water and boldly massaged his swollen sex, Blade’s steely control snapped. He took the soap from her hands and tossed it to the shore. Then he grasped her hips, lifted her and slid his hard pulsing length deep inside her. Once firmly seated, he began to thrust furiously, raining flurries of wild kisses along her forehead and temples, down her jawbone to her throat, finding an aroused nipple and sucking it into his mouth.

“Blade, oh Blade,” Shannon moaned as if in pain.

Her legs grasped his waist tightly and her body moved in perfect tempo with his. He was driving her frantic. She could feel tiny tremors begin deep inside her as he drove them both to an explosive climax.

“Now, Little Firebird, now,” Blade urged, his strokes a fierce assault on her senses. “Come with me now.”

His words were the final assault on her tenuous control as her soul left her body and soared to a place beyond the horizon reserved only for lovers. The moment Blade felt her contractions, he galloped to his own tumultuous reward.

“I love you, Shannon.”

Traveling at a leisurely pace, it took three days to reach Cheyenne. Each night they celebrated their love beneath the stars and Shannon had never felt more content or happier. If only life could forever remain as uncomplicated as it was right now, she reflected wistfully. She wanted to raise her children in a place without prejudice, live with Blade where people didn’t judge him on the merits of his Indian blood but by the kind of man he was. Immersed in her rosy dreams of the future, Shannon didn’t realize Blade had stopped the wagon on a ridge overlooking a tranquil valley.

“There it is, Little Firebird,” Blade said, his voice filled with pride. “Down there is where I’ll build our house. Our cattle will graze these hills surrounding us, our children romp among the wildflowers. Look!” he pointed out, “see that stream winding through the valley? It’s our guarantee that water will always be close at hand.”

“It’s beautiful,” Shannon sighed. “So—so peaceful.”

“That’s what we’ll call it,” Blade said in sudden inspiration. “Peaceful Valley.”

“How far are we from Cheyenne?”

“Not far, ten or twelve miles.”

“Where will we live until the house is built?”

“We’ll find something in town. I intend to put cattle on the land first, then build the house during the remaining days of summer, though I reckon it will be next year before it is finished. I want to do it right. You don’t belong in a crude hut.”

“Do we have enough money?” Shannon asked hopefully.

“I’m not penniless, love. Not rich either. But I’ve saved most of my army pay and nearly all the money left to me by my father. He was quite successful at trapping. We’ll manage until the ranch starts paying for itself. Then we might even take a trip to Idaho to visit your family. Would you like that?”

“Yes, Blade, oh yes. They’ll love you, I know they will.”

They rented a room at the Cheyenne Hotel until they could find proper lodging. By the summer of 1868, Cheyenne had grown to a busy, thriving city. The town sprang up, like most frontier cities, along the railroad as it progressed westward. It was located on Crow Creek just east of the point where the Great Plains met the Laramie Mountains.

They soon learned that the city teemed with unruly elements, mainly as a result of the nearly one thousand men who came to build the railroad tracks, and that vigilante action was necessary to maintain order. Cheyenne was nicknamed “Hell On Wheels” because of the hard-drinking, gun-toting men who passed through the frontier town. Justice, or what passed for justice, was dispensed with a short rope and a long drop.

Blade bought his first small herd of cattle not long after he filed claim on Peaceful Valley and its surrounding hills. He hired two willing hands in town and began work on the cabin he and Shannon would occupy. The following weeks were lonely for Shannon. With Blade gone so much, she had more time on her hands than she knew what to do with. She hated being idle. She always had something to do at Twin Willows, and at Fort Laramie her time had been devoted to teaching school. She applied for a teaching position, but was informed that all vacancies were filled for the coming school year. When she casually mentioned to Blade that she wanted to find work in one of the shops in town, he promptly put an end to her aspirations. With typical male arrogance he insisted he was capable of supporting her without her working. Fortunately Shannon found a worthwhile outlet on which to expend her energy.

Since Cheyenne was a town of some five thousand people, views were varied and strong concerning women’s right to vote. It was no secret that the state legislature was close to passing the amendment, and Shannon offered her considerable talents and experience to the local suffrage group. She began by attending suffrage gatherings, where she quickly met influential women who welcomed her into their ranks with open arms. Before long she was performing small services for the group and in quick order became indispensible to the cause. To her astonishment, she found that people of both sexes listened with interest to what she had to say about the movement.

In October, 1868, Shannon wrote a letter to her mother.

Dear Mama,

I’m married! Blade and I were married by the post chaplain at Fort Laramie and are living in Cheyenne. I’m ecstatic—we’re both ecstatic! Blade is homesteading a piece of land outside Cheyenne he has named Peaceful Valley, and he is busy building our first home. Until it is finished, probably next spring, we are living at the Cheyenne Hotel.

I haven’t heard from you recently. I hope things are going well for all of you in Boise. If you’ve written to me at Fort Laramie, it will probably take a while for your letter to find me in Cheyenne. I wish I could tell you I’ve heard from Devlin, but I have no idea where he is.

I’m so eager for you all to meet Blade. I love him so much. You’ll see that he is everything I said and more. I worried about our reception in Cheyenne, but so far all has gone well.

I’ve gotten involved in the women’s rights movement and am quite caught up with my work. I realize women’s suffrage is a new concept to you, Mama, but knowing you, I am certain it is something you would embrace wholeheartedly. Blade is proud of all I have accomplished in behalf of the movement. We all think Wyoming is close to passing the amendment granting women the right to vote.

Give the family our love and write soon.

Your devoted daughter,
Shannon

The next few weeks were busy ones for Shannon, and when she was asked to speak before a group, she was amazed at how easily she was able to do so. When one believed so strongly in a cause, one found words to express those deep feelings. Not even the hecklers who tried to shout her down annoyed her, nothing could shake her confidence or her staunch conviction in the cause.

Blade proudly endorsed Shannon’s work for women’s rights and even encouraged her to participate fully. Since he was gone much of the time and involved with their ranch, he was happy that Shannon had found an outlet for her overabundant vitality. If he worried about Shannon’s acceptance once the townspeople learned she was married to a half-breed Sioux, he never mentioned it, for thus far the subject hadn’t arisen. Few people had even seen the mysterious Blade Stryker. Blade prayed the day would never come when Shannon would be hurt by cruel people too blind to see past the accident of a man’s blood. But to be on the safe side, he increased his efforts on the cabin. Unfortunately winter came early in 1868, and by late October Peaceful Valley lay deep in snow.

Blade decided they should remain at the hotel for the winter. It was a time of peace and contentment for Shannon. When snow covered the ground and the wind howled around the corners, she and Blade spent long blissful hours making love, or just holding each other when the more physical side of their love exhausted them. They attended performances at the newly built opera house and found they needed no other companionship when they had each other.

At Christmas Shannon would have been thrilled to announce she was expecting Blade’s child, but was bitterly disappointed when pregnancy was not in the offing. Blade was properly sympathetic but confessed he’d like to have her to himself a while longer.

“Children will come, Little Firebird,” he teased. “They are bound to when we spend so much time trying to make one. Not that I’m complaining. I find it most pleasant work.”

“Work! You call making love to me work?” Shannon accused him with mock anger.

“Work that gives me more pleasure than anything I’ve ever done in my life.”

Then he was kissing her and the room grew quiet but for the small cries and moans made during those moments of shared ecstasy.

The year 1869 arrived, and with it more snow and cold. It wasn’t until April that severe weather finally gave way to a glorious spring. The Great Plains burst into a carpet of tall grass and flowers. Blade returned to Peaceful Valley to round up his cattle and count his losses from the severe winter. According to his calculations, he still had considerable work to do on their house. It wasn’t to be a cramped one-room cabin, but four spacious rooms built to withstand nature’s worst onslaught.

The suffrage movement in Wyoming was bolstered by the appearance of Eastern suffrage speaker Anna Dickinson. Her lecture was well received and given fair and full coverage in both the Wyoming Tribune and the Cheyenne Leader. Shannon was so impressed that she remained after the lecture to meet the famous speaker. They spent several lively hours before Miss Dickinson boarded her train discussing the issues and the importance of women’s right to their future well-being.

Inspired by Dickinson’s fervor, Shannon soon became a leading proponent of women’s suffrage and her work was widely recognized and acclaimed in Cheyenne and its environs. Her confidence in the cause and her unshakable belief in female independence soon made Shannon a popular speaker at local gatherings.

One day in early summer Shannon was asked to lecture in the town hall. She was excited at the prospect, for many people from out of town were expected to attend, including legislator William Bright. Bright would introduce the suffrage bill written by Territorial Secretary Edward M. Lee to the legislature for passage later that year. Blade surprised Shannon by expressing a desire to attend the gathering and hear her speak. Usually duties at the ranch prevented him from attending any of her lectures.

“I’ve never heard you speak, Shannon, and I’m damn proud of you. I want to be there for you this time.”