Free The Guardian by Elizabeth Lane Page B

He was truly her guardian angel. She owed him everything.
    Glancing down at the baby again, she thought briefly of Silas. She could see nothing of the grim, fanatical preacher in her daughter. The coupling that had conceived this spirited child had been a furtive, almost shameful act, performed in total darkness with both participants modestly clad in their nightclothes. Physical contact had been limited to the essential body parts—Silas had not even kissed her, she recalled now.
    Why, then, did it feel so natural to lie bloodstained and bare-breasted in full sight of a heathen savage she had known for only a few hours—a man who already knew her far more intimately than had her own husband?
    Something unreadable flickered in Black Sun’s eyes. Abruptly, he turned away from her and moved toward the flat rock where he’d unrolled his pack. Picking up another buffalo robe, smaller and softer than the one Charity was lying on, he laid it carefully over her and the baby.
    â€œRest and keep her warm,” he said. “I’ll be close by.”
    Covered by the woolly robe, Charity was already beginning to feel drowsy. She opened her mouth to thank him, but by the time her thoughts could form words she was drifting into the soft, dark fog of sleep. The last thing she remembered was the heart-binding tug of her baby’s mouth and the awareness that Black Sun was on guard, watching over them.
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    B LACK S UN TOOK a moment to check the horses. Then he settled himself on the flat rock beside the pine tree that sheltered Charity and her baby.
    He was exhausted, but he was too elated for sleep. In any case, it might be wise to stay awake. There was always the chance that the smell of birth blood could attract a wolf or a cougar, or that the Siksika had managed to pick up their trail in the moonlight. But his sharp instincts detected no such dangers tonight. There was nothing on the wind but the freshness of damp earth and the sweet peace of the canyon.
    As his gaze drifted over the rocky ledges, Black Sun felt a quiet sense of welcome and forgiveness. He had come here in need, and the canyon had taken pity on him. It had blessed him with Charity’s life and the life of her baby daughter.
    Rising, he crouched beside the sleeping pair and tucked the buffalo robe around them. Charity lay on her side, the baby cradled in the crook of her arm. Her profile was soft in sleep, the fear and pain gone from herflower-like features. Her mouth was as innocent as a child’s, her lashes like the vane of a golden feather against her pale cheek. Her hair spilled over the dark brown buffalo skin. Tentatively, he touched a stray lock. It curled around his finger like the tendril of a vine.
    She had displayed a warrior’s courage today, he thought. A woman of his own people could not have shown more bravery. The pride that surged through him was hot and fierce, almost possessive, as if she belonged to him.
    Swiftly he willed the forbidden feeling away. This was no time for emotion. As soon as Charity was strong enough to ride, it would be his duty to get her out of the canyon and to deliver her safely to the nearest trading post. That accomplished, he would mount his horse and ride away—and he would not look back.
    There could be no bond between them, no connection that would last beyond the day of their parting. She would go back to her people and find herself a new husband. He, in time, might even look for a new wife. His son needed a mother, and holding Charity’s newborn baby in his arms had reminded him of how much he wanted more children.
    Black Sun gazed up at the river of stars above the canyon walls. How small and unimportant he felt in this sacred place. Perhaps his quest to find the hidden power and become a medicine man for his people was nothing more than vanity. Perhaps he should abandon the dream, return home and settle down to an ordinary life.Was this the answer the spirits had given him?