Night Hawk's Bride. Jillian Hart

the sky, Night Hawk felt a potent, undeniable attraction. Intense desire turned his blood to liquid fire. Never had he wanted anything as much as the right to draw Marie into his arms and claim her as his.

      A dangerous need. One he refused to give in to.

      Hands trembling, he pulled a currycomb out of the second pail and concentrated on grooming the horse. Long, gliding strokes along the mare’s flank that kept him from thinking about Marie.

      But he heard the tap of her shoe on the earth and a clatter of steel against the small bucket. Marie wasn’t so easy to ignore. She gently assured Kammeo there were no more cookies in her pocket.

      He should send Marie home now, while he still could. He’d finish training the horse himself and there would be no more visits. No more temptation.

      That’s what he should do.

      “I brought something besides the cookies,” Marie said as she watched him across the span of the mare’s withers. “It’s not for you, I’m afraid. I brought some books Morning Star might like to read. You said she rides her pony over to visit you. I don’t think I’ll get a chance to see her before school starts.”

      “What kind of books?”

      “A few children’s stories about horses. I hope that will keep her excited about going to school.”

      As the wind caressed her hair and the sun graced her with fire, Marie wasn’t just beauty, but spirit too.

      One that touched his.

      Night Hawk felt his steel will melt like a candle beneath a hot flame.

      How was he going to resist her now?

      The excitement of preparing the schoolhouse was a shadow when compared to the brightness Marie felt from being with Night Hawk. She loved teaching but it wasn’t the reason she hummed as she tottered on the low stool to hang the curtains she’d made.

      “Miss Lafayette?” a woman’s modest voice broke the silence.

      The curtain rod fell from Marie’s fingers. “Goodness, you surprised me. I didn’t hear you on the steps. Please, come in.”

      Spring Rain, Morning Star’s mother, studied the desks lined in neat rows. “The children will learn well here.”

      “I sure hope so.” Marie hopped off the stool and rescued the fallen curtains. “I hope all your children will be attending?”

      “We shall see. My husband is not sure. He doesn’t see the use in his sons knowing letters and numbers.” Spring Rain hesitated in the center of the room. “Morning Star is my first husband’s daughter, Night Hawk’s brother, and so Running Deer will allow her to attend school. Night Hawk brought your books this morning. I came to thank you.”

      “I hope she enjoys them.” Marie fit the wood rod over the wooden pins, and the green gingham curtains cascaded into place. “Would you like some tea? I have cookies, too.”

      “My sweet tooth is my weakness.” She accepted with warm laughter. “Your father has done great things in this settlement. It has been hard with my people leaving. Only a few of us remain.”

      This was about Night Hawk, Marie realized as she poured two cups of tea.

      “I know that Night Hawk is training a horse for you.” Spring Rain accepted the cup and cradled it in her hands.

      “Yes. She’s a beautiful mare.” Marie set the plate of cookies on the desk between them.

      “Night Hawk is an attractive man,” Spring Rain said quietly. “He has magic with horses. His father was a great horseman.”

      Marie heard what Spring Rain was afraid to say. All of it. How Father had made things better for her people and the settlers, bringing teachers and trying to make a community where everyone belonged—whether they spoke German, Swedish, English or Sauk.

      “I won’t hurt him, I promise.” Marie spoke the words sincerely, meaning them with her entire heart. “I’m only buying a horse from him.”

      “But there is more.” Spring Rain set down her cup, the cookies forgotten. “He has known many heartaches and losses. He is alone and that is not good for a man capable of great tenderness. You may not see what I do, but you can hurt him. I came to ask that you think on what I’ve said.”

      Genuine concern filled the woman’s eyes. She nodded once and left with the whisper of deerskin and the pad of moccasins.

      Marie stood and pulled the edge of the curtain back. Four boys and a girl stood quietly in the shade of a sugar maple just outside the schoolyard. Spring Rain hurried to them, head down as if she still struggled with her emotion. The little girl with twin black braids looked up at the schoolhouse and waved.

      Marie waved back, her heart heavy. She hadn’t realized all that was at stake in this settlement where so many different people had come to make a better life.

      This surely was a place where a woman like her could fall in love with a man like Night Hawk. Without consequences. Without prejudices. Without causing harm.

      Still, the memory of Spring Rain’s concern remained in Marie’s thoughts the rest of the morning.

      “That’s right, Kammeo,” Night Hawk praised as he tightened the cinch. “Marie, hold her tighter.”

      “She’s starting to shy.”

      “Just speak calmly to her.” Night Hawk remained at Kammeo’s side, close enough to reach the leather reins in case Marie had any trouble.

      She uttered soft, soothing words that reassured the mare, who wasn’t sure about the leather thing resting on her back.