After a lifetime of not being entirely certain, he was now absolutely positive there was such a place as heaven. It wasn’t in California, as he had believed years ago, and contrary to popular opinion, a man didn’t have to die to get there. Heaven was right here on earth . . . in Indigo’s arms.
Chapter 22
DAWN STREAKED THE LEADEN SKY WITH wisps of light, touching the bedroom with a rosy glow. From behind his closed eyelids, Jake saw the pinkness and wondered if he had died and gone to heaven after all. He felt Indigo’s bare breasts against his chest and her slender thigh clasped between his. If this wasn’t heaven, he didn’t know what was.
As lightly as butterfly wings, he felt her fingertips tracing the lines of his face and realized what had woken him. He was being explored. He resisted the temptation to open his eyes. If she realized he was awake, she’d probably turn shy.
She touched his nose, following the ridge with a timid fingertip. Then she explored his mouth, his ear, the texture of his hair. When she drew back and skimmed her palms over his chest, he nearly smiled. The male nipple was obviously a curiosity. Tenderness welled within him when she toyed with it, as he had hers, trying to elicit the same response. She captured the peak and rolled it between her fingers. He lifted his lashes slightly. Her huge eyes were filled with childlike wonder.
Evidently bored by his unresponsive nipple, she checked out his chest hair and then prodded the pads of muscle. Next she walked her fingertips down his rib cage. Jake’s breath caught when she followed the line of hair on his belly to its destination. A tiny frown puckered her delicate brows when she curled her hand around his limp manhood. She gave it a tentative little squeeze. Her frown deepened. She traced the crown.
Mistaking the tantalizing touches of female fingertips as a call to muster, his flaccid appendage came to rigid attention. She went still, gazing down at the swollen rod she found herself holding. Her eyes widened, and she jerked her hand back as if it burned her. Her startled gaze flew to his.
The game was up. . . . Jake cracked a smile. “Are you looking for trouble, Mrs. Rand? If so, you just found it.”
Crimson flooded her face, and she started to scoot away. He caught her around the waist. “Where are you off to so fast? I was hoping it was my turn next.”
Her face flushed a deeper red. “You’re awake.”
Wide awake, Jake realized, the victim of an unintentional seduction. He drew his other arm from under the pillow and mimicked her, tracing the lines of her face and feigning curious awe. He slowly worked toward her chest and explored her nipple.
“What do we have here?” he asked in a husky voice. “Interesting, very interesting. Do they have a specific use, or are they just for pretty?”
Her eyes darkened and turned turbulent when he captured a hard little peak and lightly pinched it. Jake slid his palm under her breast and lifted it. Bending his head, he tasted with the tip of his tongue.
“It’s delicious. Do you mind if I have a nibble or two or three?”
Her lips parted and she expelled a soft little sigh.
Jake lay back and grinned. “Selfish with them, are you?”
A heated languor entered her eyes, and her lashes drooped. She leaned forward to put her breast more fully in his hand. He cupped it with his palm and rubbed his thumb over her areola.
“Well? Cat got your tongue?”
“Yes,” she breathed in belated response.
“Yes, what? You’re selfish with them?”
“No. You can nibble all you like.”
Tightening his arm at her waist, he lifted her slightly, then drew her toward him. When her breast was within an inch of his mouth, he released her. Gazing up into her passion-dark eyes, he whispered, “Last night, I had to take. Will you make a gift to me now?”
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She swallowed and pressed closer. When he did nothing, she moaned low in her throat. A shy blush stole over her cheeks again as she touched her nipple to his lips. With an unprecedented tenderness, he drew her into his mouth and watched the expressions that flitted across her face as he suckled her.
She was, without question, the sweetest, most precious gift he had ever received.
It was half past nine, Jake hadn’t left for the mine, his wife was still asleep, and he hadn’t had breakfast. But did he care? Hell, no. Jake sat on the edge of the bed and braced an arm on the other side of her.
“I have to go, you little hellcat,” he whispered. “Since I kept you awake all night, would you like to stay home today?”
“Mm . . .”
“Be waiting for me?”
Her kiss-swollen mouth curved in a dreamy smile. Without opening her eyes, she murmured, “I’ll throw away the rock, I promise.”
Jake nuzzled her neck. “What is it, anyway? A Comanche charm of some kind?”
She snuggled deeper under the down quilt. “No, a remedy,” she replied groggily. “So I’d take.”
With his lips hovering below her ear, he grew still. “Take?”
“Mm . . . with a baby.” Her smile deepened. “So you wouldn’t pester me.”
Now that Jake thought about it, he remembered hearing once that a rock placed under a husband’s side of the mattress might expedite conception, the idea being that the less a man slept, the more frequently he would make love to his wife. Somehow, he didn’t think that result had been Indigo’s goal, and he chuckled. “Damn, don’t just throw the thing away. Bury it.” He nibbled his way to her mouth. “Not that I’m against making babies. We can start work on that tonight.”
“Tonight,” she agreed drowsily.
“Let’s aim to have a dozen,” he said with a grin. “A hundred tries each. If I haven’t run out of steam by then, you can dig your rock back up.”
“Mm . . . a dozen, yes.”
Jake kissed her goodbye, then rose to gaze down at her for a moment. God, he loved her. He wondered if she had any idea how much. He gave Sonny a farewell scratch between his ears, then slid his gaze to the window. Last night, for the first time since Lobo’s death, Indigo had forgotten to open it.
Later that morning, when Indigo finally came awake, she heated a basin of water so she could wash. After dressing, she collected her ruined chemise and Jake’s jeans, then headed for the creek for their other smelly clothing. Minutes later, she had a small bonfire going. As she tossed the garments into the flames, she was swept back in time to a night six years ago when she had burned all her white clothing and vowed to never again acknowledge her white blood. Lying in Jake’s arms had erased all that pain from her heart. She felt whole again, and healed.
A smile touched her mouth as she recalled the first time she had set eyes on Jake. If someone had told her then that less than a month later he would get on his knees to her and kiss her feet, she would have bent double with laughter. Now that it had happened, though, she wasn’t laughing. To think that Jake, of all the men she knew, had done that, and for her? It brought tears to her eyes.
She tossed her bloomers on the fire and took a deep breath. It was odd when she thought about it. For so long, she had clung desperately to what little pride Brandon had left her. Then, with only a few words, Jake had stripped her of even that. Yet now she felt glorified. It was as if he had emptied her of the ugliness, then filled her back up with only good things.
Smoke drifted into Indigo’s eyes. She squinted and hugged herself, enjoying the heat. Laurel, which was far scarcer than pine and more difficult to cut, was a hard wood that put forth a slow, hot, long-lasting fire. Like Jake’s love, she thought. His wasn’t the kind to burn hot and fast, then fizzle out.
In spite of her discomfort from lovemaking, Indigo attacked the housework with gusto when she went back indoors. Though perhaps only temporary, this little house was Jake’s home, and she wanted it to be more than just tidy. When he came in from work in the evenings, he would be able to tell just by looking how much she loved him and how proud she was to be his wife.
After changing the bed linen, In
digo decided today would be a perfect time to do some deep cleaning, symbolic of the fresh start she and Jake had made last night. She hauled all the rugs outside and beat them with the broom. Then, before sweeping, she decided to clean the ashes from the cookstove and fireplace. She finished in the kitchen first, then moved to the sitting room. Kneeling on the hearth, she leaned forward over her knees to scoop the ashes and soot.
At the back of the inner hearth lay the burned remnants of a piece of paper. Indigo would have discarded it if her gaze hadn’t caught on the partially charred letterhead. A prickle of uneasiness crawled up the back of her neck. Ore-Cal Enterprises? Her gaze lowered to the unburned portions of the letter, written in a distinct, masculine scrawl.
Dear Jake:
I’m sending bad news, I’m afraid. As I feared, further investigation confirmed my suspicions. We’re wading knee-deep in shit. [A large portion of the paragraph was scorched and illegible. It ended with—] to get the dirty work done. If we can, we’ll lay the proof under Father’s nose and call it a job well done so you can get the hell out of there and come home. It’s boring as hell around here without you, and Emily never gives me a moment’s peace, asking when you’ll be back so she can set the date. You do remember Em, your fiancée? She’s beginning to wonder, since you haven’t written. I took the liberty of telling her the same thing I told Father, that you’re on a short, much-needed vacation. Less chance of discovery that way.
I’ll arrive there as soon as I can. It’d probably be safest to keep your story to Wolf as close to the truth as possible and just say your brother’s coming to visit. We never were much good at sticking to the same [—more charred area—] our explanations got too elaborate. Ah, but weren’t those the good old days?
Until th—
Your broth—
Indigo started to shake. She stared down at the letter and willed it to disappear. When that didn’t work, she reread it and prayed it wouldn’t seem quite so incriminating the second time. Jake was somehow connected to Ore-Cal Enterprises? What dirty work was Jeremy referring to? And who was Em?
Oh, God. . . .
Indigo clamped a hand over her mouth. Lies, all lies. Everything he had ever told her about himself had been a lie. She knew what dirty work Jeremy was referring to, the sabotage of the mine. Of course! What perfect sense that made. If they could put her father into a serious financial bind, he would sell out at a low price to Ore-Cal.
It all fell together for Indigo like the scattered pieces of a puzzle. Jake’s arrival on the same day that they had expected the representative from Ore-Cal. The lack of calluses on his palms. Even his reluctance to have her at the mine now took on new significance. He wouldn’t want her there any more than he could help for fear she might hinder him in his plans.
The pain she felt was unbearable. She huddled there on the floor and held her middle. How could she have let herself trust another white man? Wasn’t once enough to teach her?
She was nothing to him. Just as she had been nothing to Brandon. He was using her. He probably didn’t even consider himself married, since she was an Indian. Even if he did, he wouldn’t hesitate to get a divorce. But worse than that was what he was doing to her father. Ruining him. Destroying everything he had worked for these last twenty years.
How could he? Oh, God, how could he? Easily, a small voice in her mind replied. Your father’s a nothing, just like you are.
With an enraged sob, Indigo sprang to her feet, envisioning her father, broken and unable to stand. She started across the room. Her gaze froze on the spot where Jake had gone down on his knees to her. She stumbled to a stop as the memories of that washed over her. Confusion swam in her head. She recalled his gentle lovemaking, his husky whispers. Her legs felt as though they might buckle, and she sank onto the settee to stare at the letter. A liar? A consummate actor? How could any man as tall and strong and proud as Jake Rand go to his knees and humiliate himself like that for a woman unless he sincerely cared for her?
When Jake threw open the door late that afternoon, the last thing he expected was to see Indigo sitting on the settee, her face swollen from crying and streaked with black soot.
“My God, what’s happened? Is it your father? Your mother?” He cast a glance around the room. “Where’s Sonny?”
Indigo stared up at him. “He’s asleep under the bed.”
Jake closed the door and leaned against it. His heart began to slam. “Honey, is it Toothless? What made you cry?”
She didn’t answer, just kept staring at him. Framed by black soot, her eyes looked so light a blue, they reminded Jake of endlessly deep, clear pools of water. He looked into them and felt as if he was drowning. A loud silence settled around them. Then an eerie sensation slid over him. He felt as if she was looking clear to his soul.
Then it hit him that she might be doing just that. She had gone unnaturally still, and there was a faraway expression on her face, as though she was listening to something he couldn’t hear. Jake felt vulnerable in a way he never had, and naked. He wanted to look away. He nearly did. But he sensed that to do so would be an irrevocable mistake.
After a long while, she pushed to her feet and extended a trembling hand toward him. He saw that she held a charred piece of stationery in her slender fingers. His gaze whipped to the fireplace.
“All of it didn’t burn,” she said simply.
Jake groaned. “Damn it to hell.”
“I’m afraid that’s not what I want to hear.”
Jake held up his hands, then dropped them. “It’s not as bad as it—” He gave a bitter laugh. “Actually, it is as bad as it looks. That’s why I didn’t have the guts to tell you.”
“Tell me now,” she said softly.
Jake swallowed. “I suppose you’ve already told your father.”
Pain flickered in her eyes. “I nearly did.” Her mouth trembled slightly. “If things are the way this letter makes them look, I owe you nothing but a knife in your gut. And then, of course, I should spit on your grave.”
Jake closed his eyes. “Jesus, Indigo. After all that we shared last night, you can’t mean that.”
A glitter crept into her eyes. “Did we share something special? Or were you just using a stupid squaw? Who is Emily?”
“She’s, um . . .” He threw up his hands again. “She was my fiancée.”
Indigo looked him dead in the eye. “Have you broken the engagement? Or do you plan to return to her once you’ve had your fun with me?”
Jake gave a humorless little laugh. “You can’t believe that. I married you, for God’s sake. I’d say that effectively ended my engagement to Emily. I just haven’t had time—” He broke off, no longer able to color the truth. Since knowing Indigo, he had a whole new definition of honesty. “Actually, I’ve had plenty of time to write her. I just couldn’t find a way to do it behind your back.”
“Because I would have found out about her?” She lowered her arm and let the paper flutter to the floor. “So I’m married to a man who’s engaged to another woman? To a man who loves another woman?” Her body went rigid. “When I think of the things I allowed you to do last night—I feel so dirty and used. Worse than Brandon made me feel. At least I fought him. He tried to rape me with force, which was at least honest. You rape with lies.”
“Indigo, you have to listen to me.”
Her narrow shoulders straightened. “Why do you think I’m still here? I felt I owed you that much. Even though it appears that your ‘dirty work’ nearly killed my father. Even though it looks as if you have made a bigger fool of me than Brandon ever dreamed of.”
Her voice shook with the intensity of her feelings. “Even though it seems that everything you led me to believe has been a lie, I couldn’t betray you without first hearing what you had to say.” She slid her arms around her waist and stared up at him. “If there’s anything you can say to make the hurting inside me stop, please do it.”
Jake brushed his sleeve across his mouth. He wanted nothing more than to
cross the room and take her into his arms. He was afraid to try. She looked as though she might shatter if he touched her. But there was hope. She must still love him, or she wouldn’t be here.
“I love you,” he said hoarsely. “That isn’t a lie, and it never was. And no matter how bad it looks, I came here to help your father, not hurt him.” On legs gone quivery with nerves, Jake strode to the settee and sat down. The crushed look on her face was scaring the hell out of him. “It wasn’t my dirty work Jeremy was talking about in the letter. It was our father’s.”
Haltingly and not at all sure he was making any sense, Jake dragged the story up from his guts. She stood listening in a frozen, awful silence.
“I never told you an outright lie.” He gestured with his hands. “I know I haven’t been honest. I’ve lied by omission. Believe it or not, where I come from, that’s not considered lying. I know that doesn’t make a damned bit of sense to you, not the way you see things, but in my world, if your intentions are good, which mine were, and hiding the truth facilitates matters, it’s more power to you.”
She still said nothing.
“Indigo, when I came here, all of you were faceless. I never intended to hurt anyone with the deception, only to help.” He strained to swallow. “I never meant to fall in love with you. By the time I started to realize how much I cared about you, I’d already dug my grave. I wanted to tell you the truth, but I put it off, praying Jeremy would find proof our father wasn’t behind it all. Then, at least, the telling wouldn’t have been quite so awful.”
She still didn’t speak.
Jake dropped his head into his hands. “I suppose you’re still waiting to hear about Emily.”
“How astute of you.”
He glanced up. “I never really loved her. We spent a lot of time together. I enjoyed her companionship. She came from an acceptable family. I was nearly thirty. Asking her to marry me seemed like the thing to do. I’ve regretted it since—long before I met you, I began to regret it. I’m fond of her. I’d never deliberately hurt her. But there was no magic there for me. Not the way there is with you.”