Free Deborah Camp by Lonewolf's Woman

his brain. He hadn’t dwelt on another woman since Julia’s death. It was a relief to think of someone else for a change.
    Replacing his hat, he knotted the leather lines again and looped them around his waist. Gathering them in his gloved hands, he clucked his tongue and the mules set off again, straining against the leathers to drag the plow over the field and bust through the earth.
    He tried to pay attention to the rows, occasionally tugging on the lines or uttering a command to correct the mules’ progress, but his thoughts returned to Elise. It was difficult for him to think of her as his wife. In fact, he rejected the notion so strenuously that he hadn’t allowed himself to contemplate their unconventional union. After all, he hardly knew the woman. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy getting to know her. He’d like nothing better than to kiss those pouty lips, to hear her moan with passion as he stretched out on top of her, to take her breasts in his hands and her nipples in his mouth …
    He jerked his mind away from the picture of such delights. Sweat rolled into his eyes. He was overheated, and not from the sun.
    There were huge gaps in what he did know about his new wife—frustrating gaps. She wasfrom Baltimore, but what sort of life had she led there? Why had no relative come forth to keep the siblings together?
    Among the Apache, there were no orphans. On the contrary, relatives campaigned for children who had lost their parents. Elders of the tribe often had to make the difficult choice of which relatives could take in the child or children.
    But Elise’s relatives had turned their backs—why? Did their attitude have something to do with Elise or with her parents? Questions about her whirled in Blade’s head like spokes on a wheel. Why hadn’t she stayed in Baltimore and wed someone there? Why had she insisted on remaining under his roof? What circumstances had forced her to marry a stranger? Since it seemed that she was bound and determined to stay, he figured he might as well discover what he could about her.
    A vision of her laughing blue eyes and the dimples that winked at the corners of her mouth obliterated all else for a few moments. He didn’t realize that he was smiling or that the mules had stopped again until Sam snorted and yanked on the lines.
    “What is it?” Blade asked, shaking his head to emerge from his pleasant stupor. He lifted the lines over his head and moved toward the team. Homer blew noisily through his flared nostrils. Sam stamped a foot. Neither tried to go forward.
    Must be a hole, Blade thought, stepping carefully over the ground until he located the depression. Gopher hole. He took his place behind the plow and looped the tied lines over his head and shoulders again to hang at his waist.
    “Gee, Homer, Sam,” he coaxed, and the mules high-stepped gingerly to the right, around the hole and past it. “That’s good, boys. Haw. Haw, Homer.”The mules moved left, straightening the rows.
    Homer curled back his lips and snorted, then shook all over. Sam tossed his head, jerking the lines.
    “Okay, okay, settle down. I’ll pay better attention,” Blade promised, grinning a little at his mules’ contrary behavior. If everything didn’t go just so, they revolted. Mules were like women that way. Hard to please, but necessary to good living.
    Sam strained the leathers again and skinned back his ears. Homer issued a coughing neigh. Blade gripped the lines with focused determination and put all thoughts of blue eyes and beribboned petticoats aside.
    “Would you mind placing this rocker on the porch for me? You can bring it back in later.”
    “On the porch?” Blade scratched his head at Elise’s request. “What’s wrong with it staying right where it is?”
    “Oh, nothing. I just wanted to sit on the porch for a while, now that Penny’s settled in bed for the night. It’s rather warm in here, and the air smells lovely this time of the evening. Would you mind? You could