Page 39 of The Spirit of the Wolf

As I love you.

Silently, she gasped. No, this wasn’t right. The thought had been a mistake.

She didn’t love this man. She couldn’t love this man. Her entire life, her whole future was destined to be lived elsewhere.

While she could admit she did feel a fondness for Grey Coyote, wasn’t the emotion she felt merely one which was so only because they were alone with one another? And for an extended period of time?

Yes, this was all this was. It had to be.

But, screamed another, virtuous part of her, if she didn’t love him, what was she doing here? Like this? Had the far West somehow made a loose woman of her?

She sighed at the sense of the moral obligation she felt. One would think a person would be permitted to have at least one skeleton in the closet, one adventure in life. After all, it wasn’t as if it was bad. Both she and Grey Coyote referred to one another as husband and wife.

Indeed, he truly believed it.

And so it was on this particular thought Marietta quickly came to a decision. She would have her adventure; she would have her skeleton. Alas, she would have her memories. For, she could never remember a time when she had been happier.

Thus, having settled this conflict within herself, she stepped forward and closed the distance between them. “Is it your idea to repeat much of what we did last night? Now?” Smiling up at him, she drew her fingertips down his chest, emphasizing her point.

“It is, my wife. Though I fear you may be sore from our lovemaking. Are you?”

She nodded. “A little.”

“Then come, there is time enough for more of the same. Let us bathe now and heal the part of you which is sore with the mud from Mother Earth. But do not be deceived. When you are healed, it is my intention to repeat last night again and again and again.”

She grinned up at him. “And I think I will give you little complaint.”

He, too, smiled, and they beamed at one another, her heart, even his, there for the taking within a heated gaze. True, their passion might be temporary—in fact, it might end tomorrow—but neither of these circumstances would make the intensity of the moment less.

Indeed not.

Chapter

Nine

Their little camp had become a flurry of activity, and it was good, very good how Grey Coyote had secured their gully against an enemy, for it would be here where they would pause for a few days. Days which would be filled with the chore of drying meat and making pemmican.

“We will be traveling deep into enemy territory,” Grey Coyote had explained. “We will not be availed of the luxury of lighting a fire along the way.”

Lighting a fire was a luxury? One would never know it, Marietta thought, the way she struggled with the chore.

Grey Coyote continued to speak. “Kakel, thus, although I do not like to wait, for there is urgency in my duty, we must take these few days to prepare our food. But I can only allow two or three, perhaps four days at the most.”

Marietta readily agreed. This suited her, and she was quick to let Grey Coyote know as well.

So today, their third day together, Grey Coyote had taken to the hunt early, informing Marietta that she was to remain inside their hideaway until he returned. Since she bore many chores involving the pounding of various berries, this was no hardship.

Grey Coyote returned before noon, carrying the carcass of a deer over his back. Marietta watched from their shelter’s entryway as he lowered the animal to the ground. In truth, she never tired of looking at the man, for his physique was most pleasing.

Crawling out from the shelter, she said, “Good morning, husband.” Odd how the endearment, husband, fit him well. Strange also how natural it sounded on her lips.

“Hau, hau,” he replied, pulling her into his arms. He gave her a robust hug.

“It never ceases to amaze me.”

“What is it you speak of, my wife?”

“How is it that you can carry a deer for miles and miles, and do not seem to tire?”