Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
"Good." He wrapped his leg over hers and began a tale that made Prudence laugh so hard, it brought a flood of tears to her eyes.
"You tell some tall tales, Mr. Stewart," she said, wiping her tears away.
He kissed her slightly swollen lips, a remaining effect of his insatiable hunger for her. "I tell nothing but the truth, Mrs. Stewart, I swear." He covered his heart with his hand in demonstration of his good faith.
"I suppose I have no other choice but to believe you."
"No choice, honey," he said seriously. "I always tell the truth."
She swallowed the lump in her throat. He was once again telling her his love for her was real and true. But she still couldn't bring herself to admit her own love for him.
CHAPTER 24
The rain continued into the next day, not that it mattered to the couple nesting inside. They were impervious to their surroundings. They were the only two who existed.
Prudence sat at the table eating the biscuits and eggs Zac had prepared for them. She wore only his white cotton shirt, which was secured by just two buttons, leaving her breasts barely covered. Her coppery hair was in total disarray and gave her an air of wildness that Zac found appealing. Her lips were swollen from too many ardent kisses and her cheeks flushed from too much lovemaking. Her odor was one of pure lust, lingering around her like an enticing perfume.
"I make good eggs, don't I?" he asked, deciding food was a safe enough subject to discuss.
"Great eggs," she agreed, eagerly popping the rest of her biscuit, dripping with yolk, into her mouth. She licked her lips with a small laugh, wiping the last drop of yolk away with the tip of her tongue.
"Your father and mother are worried about you."
"You said they have been speaking with each other?"
"Quite successfully. And they hope to talk with you."
"My father has accepted my mother's reason for deserting us?" she asked, slamming her knife down on her tin plate.
Zac calmly continued. "That is something you will have to ask him. I know they have spoken. I know tears have been shed by all. And I know it is time to lay this thing to rest."
"Does Silver Fox still love my father?" It was an important question. If she did, then there was hope her mother still loved her.
"I don't think she ever stopped loving him."
"Then why did she leave us? And why didn't she tell me who she was when I first met her? I was so young when she left. My only memories of her were in fashionable clothes and a lovely swept-up hairstyle, becoming her natural beauty." Prudence's questions were asked with bitterness and sorrow that came from failing to recognize her own mother.
"I don't know, but did you ever stop to think it might have something to do with her Indian heritage?"
"No one knew." She shook her head sadly and amended her spoken thoughts. "My grandmother must have known. That's why she sent me to find her. She told me I'd find the truth."
"Does the truth disturb you?" Zac asked, worried she might be ashamed of her Cheyenne heritage.
"I don't know. I was raised in a world vastly different from this." She waved her hand around the sparse cabin. "I was lead to believe that there was only one way to live, one way that was acceptable to society."
"And what do you believe now?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know what to believe. When Granger called me a savage, I experienced, firsthand, the meaning of prejudice. And it hurt."
"So you hit him," Zac couldn't help add with a laugh.
Prudence grinned and held up her fist. "I gave him a good punch."
"You did. It left its mark."
"It did?" she asked, sitting up straight and feeling proud.
"It did… a nice red tender welt. A perfect match for the black eye I gave him."
"You didn't?" She covered her mouth in feigned shock.
He winked. "You knew damn well I would."
Her humor faded and she looked seriously at him "Do you think my father and mother will mend their relationship?"
"Without a doubt, I'd say it's close to mended already. You're the last thread that needs stitching, so to speak."
"My father is worried about me?"
"Your father and mother are worried. Your mother in particular."
"How would you know that for sure unless—" She paused a moment, realizing. "You've spoken to Silver Fox about me."
"She needed to talk, to make someone understand that she never meant to hurt you. She's desperately worried that you will be ashamed of what she is. What she passed on to you. You need to speak with her. I think then you'll understand."
Prudence shook her head slowly. "I don't know if I'm ready."
"You may never be ready, honey. It's just something you must do."
"I suppose you're right," she agreed reluctantly. "But can we wait another day? I want some time to think this through."