Prarie Fire Part 4

"Dev?"

"Hmm?" Devlin answered, trying not to writhe under the easy touch.

"May I touch you?"

"Of course, love."

Sarah moved her hand to cup the underside of Devlin's breast. "Anywhere?"

Devlin swallowed hard and closed her eyes, momentarily lost in Sarah's caress. Opening her eyes and taking a deep breath, she looked down and used her hand to direct Sarah's chin upward. Devlin gazed into those green eyes and smiled.

"Sachu-kash, I belong to you as much as you belong to me. You may always touch me wherever, however, and whenever you like."

Sarah kissed the uppermost swell of Devlin's breast. She explored her lover's body. She had never touched a woman this way before, and at first, she acted out of curiosity. However, when her fingers casually brushed over a nipple and Devlin gasped in pleasure, Sarah realized the power her touch held. As she continued, she felt her own excitement escalate simply from touching Devlin. Just as Devlin had elicited the shameless sounds from her, Sarah wanted to bring that kind of pleasure to Devlin.

Sarah's fingers ma.s.saged every inch of Devlin's upper body. She moved across Devlin's shoulders, lingering in the sensitive area across her collarbone, down her chest and arms, and finally across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Sarah's touch was as delicate as Devlin's was, and she wondered if the muscular woman preferred a stronger touch.

Sarah's silky smooth fingertips enraptured Devlin as they slid across her heated skin. It was arousing and maddening at the same time. She wanted to let herself enjoy the caresses that she had never before felt from a lover, but the wetness and the pulse pounding between her legs were telling her that she wanted to be taken fast and hard. Devlin took a deep breath and sighed her pleasure along with her frustration.

Sarah voiced her concern. "Dev," she whispered, "show me how you like to be touched."

Devlin pulled the woman in her arms closer, until Sarah's body was lying across hers. She was about to take Sarah's hand and press it firmly against her breast, showing Sarah that she craved a rougher touch, but she stopped herself.

This night was a first for Devlin, too. For the first time in her life, a woman who loved her was making love to her, a woman whom Devlin loved in return. Devlin had never experienced the tenderness of a lover's caress before. Even when s.e.x had been good for Devlin, it was rough and fast, similar to a sparring match. She had never relinquished control to anyone for fear of being hurt or abandoned. Now the woman of her heart requested that Devlin show what she liked, but how could Devlin tell her that she didn't know what she liked, that she'd never been touched that way, either?

"Sachu-kash, I'd like you to touch me exactly the way you've been touching me. It feels so good...you feel so good. I want you to feel what you do to me," Devlin said hoa.r.s.ely, taking Sarah's hand.

Devlin slid their hands down her belly, pausing when she reached the dark triangle of hair. Halting briefly, she waited to see if Sarah would pull back. Instead, the strangled groan Sarah released from that first cherished contact surprised Devlin. Spreading her legs wider, she slipped their hands into her wetness. The sensation of their hands mingling together between Devlin's legs wrenched a breathless moan from each of them.

Sarah smiled to think that her body could excite Devlin this way. She leaned into her lover and kissed her with an intensity that surprised Devlin. Devlin removed her hand from her center and wrapped her arms around Sarah, caressing the smooth skin of her back. Sarah blazed a trail of tender kisses everywhere her fingers had touched earlier. Sarah soon found that her favorite new pastime would be suckling on Devlin's dark nipples. The way that Devlin moaned and rolled her hips against Sarah's hand excited her. Sarah realized that she was becoming as aroused as her lover. She pressed her fingers gently against Devlin's wet entrance.

"Oh, yes, I need to feel you inside of me." Devlin moaned.

Sarah slid two fingers deeper, as Devlin had with her. She felt the warm softness envelop her fingers and moved them forward in a slow rocking motion.

Devlin groaned again and thrust her hips harder against Sarah's hand. "More," she pleaded and reached down to indicate that she wanted another finger inside her.

Devlin felt the fullness of three of Sarah's fingers deep inside, moving against her, and gave herself up to Sarah's body. She wrapped one arm around her waist and another in her hair. Devlin rolled her hips in a gentle motion against her hand. She could feel a warm wetness over the top of her thigh and realized Sarah straddled the muscular leg, her own pa.s.sions burning anew. Devlin slid her hand downward along Sarah's back until she reached the smooth flesh of Sarah's backside. She squeezed the flesh there and encouraged the motion of Sarah's hips. Soon, the movement matched Devlin's as each woman came closer to climax.

"Sa," Devlin moaned into Sarah's ear. Devlin had always called her sachu-kash, but now Devlin chanted this one clan word. Devlin felt the first tremors of her o.r.g.a.s.m begin.

In response, Sarah pressed her body tightly to Devlin's.

"Sa!" Devlin growled as her body shook with a fierce release. She groaned out the word again, muscles convulsing, feeling as if she were melting from the inside out. The clan word that Devlin continued to moan into Sarah's ear was perhaps the simplest of all words, but with the largest impact for the two lovers. Sarah was hearing it for the first time, but it would forever become her pet name. Sarah's cry of delight followed Devlin's as she met with her own release.

"Sa," Devlin whimpered one last time, meaning "mine."

Sarah raised her head and saw that Devlin's forearm rested over her eyes. Tears ran down the sides of Devlin's face. "Dev, are you all right, did I hurt you?" Sarah grew afraid at Devlin's reaction.

"Oh, no, sachu-kash, I'm sorry." Devlin held tightly to the woman lying next to her.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Devlin looked into Sarah's worried face and became overwhelmed by the emotions that filled her. "Absolutely not, my love. What you did was so very right. I've never experienced anything quite as wonderful."

Devlin admitted that while she had experienced pleasure, no one had ever made love to her before. Sarah's gentle touches were the first Devlin had ever known from a lover. Sharing their love so tenderly reminded Devlin of a part of herself that she thought had died long ago-her heart.

Both women had a night of firsts. They pulled the blankets over themselves and cuddled together to sleep, exhausted yet content.

Chapter 5.

Every one of Devlin's senses was alert, even though she appeared to be asleep to anyone watching. She lay still with her eyes closed, controlling her breathing so it wouldn't accelerate at the surge of adrenaline that ran through her body. She opened her eyes a fraction and looked around the room to confirm that nothing was amiss. She heard the sound again. It was a light footfall, almost a shuffle. It was only one person, by the sounds that filtered through the wall.

"Sarah?" Devlin whispered close to the sleeping woman's ear. She was impressed at the level of alertness Sarah displayed. "There's someone outside. Put something on and be very quiet."

Devlin slid from the bed like a shadow slinking along the ground. She slipped on her pants and a shirt, which she didn't bother to b.u.t.ton. She eased her revolver from its holster and made her way into the main room of the cabin. The wooden shutters were closed over the windows on each side of the door. She placed an ear against the door and listened as footsteps moved around the other side of the cabin toward the barn.

Devlin opened the wooden door without so much as a creak and her bare feet moved soundlessly in the dry dirt. She didn't follow directly behind the intruder. Instead, she went around the barn to get ahead of him. She heard scuffling in one of the empty stalls. Whoever the trespa.s.ser was, he wasn't doing much to keep his movements a secret.

Devlin bent over so that the fencing that separated the stalls hid her, and she moved closer. She heard muttered phrases and what sounded like grumbling or complaining. The light from the half moon gave her enough illumination to see. It was apparent to Devlin that whoever was taking up residence wasn't doing much to avoid being caught. The right combination of surprise and menace would give her the upper hand.

The barn grew quiet as the intruder apparently settled in for the night. Devlin grinned as she prepared to scare the life out of the poor soul who was unfortunate enough to have roused her from her bed. Suddenly standing upright, Devlin spun on one heel, facing the open stall. Only one b.u.t.ton held her shirt closed, and the nighttime breeze whipped her dark hair around her bronze face. Her outstretched arm held a Colt pistol.

"Tanta kim tomi!" the old man exclaimed, trembling in fear.

Devlin felt foolish. She was half-clothed and brandished her revolver, while at her feet lay a terrified old man. She could only imagine what the wide-eyed Indian thought, gazing up at six feet of very intimidating woman.

"Kata chim?" Under ordinary circ.u.mstances, Devlin would not have been so rude as to ask who the man was without first showing proper respect, but in her book, he was trespa.s.sing and that's all there was to it.

"Tanta kim tomi," he repeated.

Devlin tilted her head, unable to make out the language the old man spoke. It sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it.

"Chahta imanupa ish anumpola hinla ho?" She asked if the man spoke Choctaw, hoping they could find some common ground.

Now it was the old man's turn to look confused.

"Well, this is gonna get us nowhere fast." Devlin tucked her gun into the waistband of her trousers and offered the man a hand up.

"Chisa oh," he said once he was standing.

The man wasn't very steady on his feet, and his skin felt warm but dry to Devlin's touch. He stood bent over slightly and looked exhausted.

"Yeah, chisa oh to you, too, whatever that means. Where do you come from, and what do you want in a place where you can't speak the language?" Devlin asked the question more to herself. "Come on, let's get you inside. I've got a tekchi in the house who probably has a loaded Winchester right about now."

Devlin motioned to the man to follow. She slung his makeshift rucksack over her shoulder and had to practically carry him to the door. Sure enough, Sarah was waiting with her rifle. As headstrong as Sarah was, Devlin felt better knowing that when the chips were on the table, Sarah did as instructed. The last thing Devlin needed was to worry about her own lover shooting her in the middle of the night.

"Dev!" Sarah called out in concern. She leaned the rifle against the wall just inside of the cabin door and rushed out to help Devlin.

The old man's eyes grew wide as Sarah came up beside him. He looked at the two women, nodded, and smiled weakly. He stumbled and Sarah helped him regain his balance. With the frail man between them, Sarah and Devlin helped their guest inside the cabin.

The man spoke in a language that Sarah didn't recognize. He mumbled on as they helped him to the cot beside the fireplace. Hank had set up the makeshift bed when he stayed at the cabin while Sarah and Devlin had visited the Choctaw camp. Devlin fanned the banked coals inside the stone fireplace and added some kindling, then a log. The room quickly turned warm and comfortable. The whole time, the old man muttered in his own language.

"What's he saying?" Sarah asked.

"Darned if I know." Devlin shook her head.

Sarah wrapped a blanket around the man and offered him a cup of water, which he drank greedily. She poured him another and went to the pot still hanging beside the fireplace. She dished up a bowl of their leftover dinner and brought it to him.

"He eats like it's been a while," Devlin said.

The old man gulped down the food and Sarah refilled the bowl. Devlin knelt beside the wooden cot.

"Chi hohchifo nanta?" Devlin tried the clan language once more, asking the man his name. Feverish brown eyes looked at her and the man shook his head. An ironic smile graced his features.

"Ko sa omita?" he asked in return. Unfortunately, Devlin didn't understand the man any more than he appeared to understand her.

"Ak akostinincho," Devlin said.

Sarah laid a gentle hand on Devlin's shoulder. "Dev, I don't think telling him you don't understand him in Choctaw makes much more sense than saying it in English." She smiled at Devlin.

Devlin fixed a sheepish grin on Sarah. "Oh, yeah. Guess I forgot."

"Maybe we can at least find out where he's from, what tribe he belongs to," Sarah said.

"Great idea. Care to give it a go?" Devlin asked.

"Very funny." Sarah ran her fingers through Devlin's hair and rested one hand along the back of the kneeling woman's neck.

Sarah caught the man's gaze as he watched the two women interact. Mostly, she noticed the way he stared at Sarah's hand as she affectionately touched Devlin. She hadn't yet prepared herself for how other people would react to her and Devlin together. Among the white men, she now had wealth, which meant power. When people were powerful, they could do as they pleased without reprisal.

Sarah pulled her hand back and took a half-step away from Devlin. Devlin felt the difference immediately. She turned and looked up at Sarah. She took in the expression on her face and the way Sarah physically distanced herself from Devlin. Her ire instantly sparked. She'd experienced the hurt that a man's prejudiced att.i.tude could inflict, and she wasn't about to allow anyone to treat Sarah that way.

"Don't do that, sachu-kash," Devlin admonished. "Don't let him make you feel ashamed." She stood alongside Sarah and slipped her arm around her slim waist. Devlin kissed Sarah's temple, then she glared down at the man who continued to look at them oddly. "A tekchi." She wasn't sure why she spoke in Chahta, but it felt right. She stared the old man down and repeated it in English. "My wife." Sarah's arm went around Devlin's waist and lightly squeezed.

"Ah." The old man nodded and smiled. "Omi tu a na."

He slipped a hand inside his pack and pulled out a worn and dirty piece of hide. He held it out to Devlin, who knelt so she could see the pictures painted there. Her anger flared again at the sight. She pulled the hide from his grasp and pointed to a spot on the leather.

"Who the h.e.l.l are you?" she hissed.

"Dev! What's wrong?" Sarah dropped down beside her.

"This is what's wrong," Devlin said in a tight voice. She pa.s.sed the hide to Sarah.

"It looks like a map. There's a picture of a red-tailed hawk and a fish at the top. I don't understand, how does this man know our Chahta names?"

"That's what I'd like to know."

Devlin abruptly grabbed the man's sack and spilled the contents onto the cot. Part of her was ashamed for treating a grandfather in such a manner, but her other senses told her that this man knew too much about them. She no longer had the luxury of thinking only of herself. She had loved ones to protect.

The old man sat calmly watching her, as if waiting for her to finish. He didn't appear to be offended by the treatment.

Devlin unwrapped the last unidentified item. She was instantly sorry she had, and she hoped it wasn't too late to make amends to whatever spirits led the man. She held a carved wooden bowl in her hands along with a medium-sized decorated pouch. The markings on the bowl were much the same as the ones on a bowl that her mother, Tima, owned.

"He's Alikchi, a medicine man," Devlin said.

"Does that explain how he knows us?" Sarah asked.

"Somewhat." Devlin turned to Sarah and smirked. "Trust me, they know things."

Devlin took the hide back and spoke a few words of apology to the old man. She knew he couldn't understand the language but hoped that he could feel the sentiment behind her words. Devlin pointed to the hawk on the map, then pointed the same finger at her own chest. She repeated the action, stating her name each time she pointed to herself.

At last, the old man nodded. "Redhawk," he repeated in a halting voice.

Devlin smiled and nodded. She repeated the procedure, pointing to the picture of the fish, then to Sarah. The old man kept interrupting by pointing to Sarah and asking the same unintelligible question.

"What's wrong?" Sarah asked.

"I'm not sure, but he seems to think that you should be someone other than who you are."

The man looked back and forth between the two women. His brow furrowed as if in confusion. He looked at Devlin and placed his hand upon his chest.

"Ankahito," he said. He paused and looked at Devlin. "Ankahito," he repeated. This time, he held his hand out to Devlin.

"Oh," Devlin said. "Redhawk." She pointed a finger at her own chest.

"Na." The old man shook his head. "Ankahito." He pointed to his chest, then motioned to Devlin and Sarah with his hand.

"I think he's telling us who he is, Dev, not what his name is," Sarah said. "I think Ankahito are his people."

"Never heard of 'em," Devlin said. "Chahta." Devlin pointed to herself.

"Chahta," the man mimicked. "Chahta?" He pointed to Sarah.

"Well," Devlin said, rubbing her chin, "that's a little more complicated. No." She shook her head.

The old man spoke quickly, more to himself than to the women. He looked confused, but neither Devlin nor Sarah could figure out why.

He rose on shaky legs and took a step toward them. "Na Chahta?" he asked of Sarah.

"He seems pretty upset that you're not Choctaw." Devlin pulled Sarah closer.