"Hell, yes. I don't want you thinkin' I ain't got couth. When you get over bein' so bashful, I'll show you how that's supposed to be done."

"How, pray?"

He chuckled and grabbed her hands to pull her up off the rock. "Oh, no. Not this boy. I learned a long time ago at a three-fork supper party that there's some things you don't say or talk about to a lady, and that's one of 'em." He chucked her under her chin. "I'll just wait till the time's right and surprise you."

Laura wasn't certain she wanted to be surprised. On the other hand, though, maybe she did.

Chapter 24.

*Surprises. Over the next two weeks, Laura learned that Deke Sheridan was a man of so many surprises, she could scarcely keep track of them. He not only knew a great deal about babies, but was absolutely wonderful with Jonathan, always willing to hold him, not hesitating to wash and change him, endlessly patient when he grew fussy. There were times when Laura's heart caught at the expression on Deke's face when he looked at her son, sometimes tender, at other times proud, always affectionate. She began to wonder if Deke didn't truly love the baby as much as he might have if he were his own.

"Look, Laura," he demanded one afternoon. "He's smiling at me!" Another time, after tracing the baby's face with a leathery fingertip, he said, "You know, he might just grow out of it."

"Out of what?" Laura had asked.

An evasive look came into Deke's eyes. "Ah, nothin'," he said, but Laura noticed he continued to study the baby with a pleased smile. Laura began to suspect that perhaps Deke hadn't thought Jonathan to be a very pretty baby when he first saw him.

True to his word, Deke spent hours teaching Laura each day. Under his expert tutelage, she became increasingly proficient with weapons, even learning to throw the knife and hit her target. He also schooled her in the gathering of edible flora, teaching her to recognize a leafy plant he called Indian lettuce and a white tuber he claimed tasted very much like potatoes, a yellow root that substituted for carrots, wild onions, and watercress.

When Laura was able to gather stew makings without Deke's help, he began teaching her to recognize plants and trees with medicinal properties, which she found particularly fascinating because she knew some of those same plants and trees might have saved her life. No doubting Thomas, she. Not anymore. Medicine Woman clearly knew what she was doing when it came to doctoring, and she had trained her only son well.

The bark from barberry, Laura learned, was a powerful healer that fought inflammation in wounds, cured liver jaundice, diarrhea, dysentery, urinary tract problems, pinkeye, goiters, and female inflammations. It was also believed to keep a person well if consumed regularly.

"If nobody's sick," Deke laughingly added, "its berries can always be used for jams and puddin's, the roots to make yellow dye."

For fever he recommended powdered bayberry bark, and failing to find that, willow bark tea. "I hear tell a woman can dose her man with willow bark tea regular and" He broke off and shot her a sultry look. "Never mind. I don't want you gettin' ideas."

Intrigued, Laura asked, "What kind of ideas? Come on, Deke, I want to learn all I can. Don't keep things from me."

He shrugged. "Well, too much willow bark tea is s'posed to make a man"he shot her another look"less interested in the ladies, if you know what I mean."

Laura giggled. "Oh, really?" She waggled a scolding finger at him. "Watch your step, Mr. Sheridan. Give me too much trouble, and I shall dose you daily!"

He swatted playfully at her, which she easily dodged because he was carrying Jonathan. Laura gained several steps on him, turned, and walked backward. "You'd better be nice to me. I know how to handle you now."

He narrowed one eye. "Come near me with willow hark tea, girl, and I'll flay the hide right off your sassy little butt."

Laura didn't feel the least intimidated, and that felt absolutely wonderful. Eyes stinging with tears of gladness, she stopped retreating and waited for him to come abreast of her. When Deke saw the suspicious shimmer in her eyes, he hooked a hand over the back of her neck and hauled her up against him for a quick hug.

No words, no promises. But Laura was quickly realizing she didn't need them, not with Deke. As for dosing him with willow bark tea? Not on her life. As diligently as he had all else, he had been working very hard to get Laura past her "bashful" stage. Thus far, he hadn't been entirely successful, but Laura was coming to enjoy his efforts more with each passing day.

Denver. When Laura thought of returning there now, she felt indescribably sad. Life among the Cheyenne was idyllic. She loved everything about it, from the new freedom of movement she enjoyed in her Indian clothing to the social activities. Dances by late night bonfires. Being caught in Deke's blanket and secretly fondled until she nearly went mad trying to keep her expression carefully blank so no one else might guess what he was doing to her. Passing the firelight hours of long summer evenings with Black Stone, Star, and Sugar Girl, playing board games, eating specially made treats, listening to Medicine Woman tell stories of old. So much love, so little pretense. Laura had been accepted by the People, made to feel one with them, and she dreaded the thought of leaving them, perhaps never to see any of them again.

Even so, a great deal of time had passed, and Laura knew Deke had a ranch to run. It began to worry her that he gave no sign of being anxious to leave.

One evening when they were returning to the village from one of their educational walks through the woods, Laura missed Chief, who was usually Deke's constant shadow.

"Where has that mangy, good-for-nothing dog gotten off to?" she asked lightly.

"He's sniffin' out honey, I think."

Laura frowned. "Honey?"

Deke grinned. "A little gal who's in the courtin' mood. Damned mongrel ain't got no loyalty at all when it comes to females. Takes off darned near every time we hit Denver, and I don't see him much till it's time to leave."

"I don't imagine you missed him much. I warn you, Mr. Sheridan, those days are gone forever. Henceforth, no upstairs rooms for you."

Laura happened to glance up and catch him with a wistful expression on his dark face.

"What is it?" she asked softly.

They were near a stream, of which there were many in the foothills, and Deke paused to lean against a cottonwood, his gaze fixed on the rushing water where it eddied and foamed over a fall of rocks. Laura was beginning to think he might not answer her when he suddenly said, "You're strong enough to travel now. The twenty days is up. Twenty-two to be exact. We might oughta be headin' back for Denver shortly."

Though Laura had been acutely aware that they should probably head back for Denver and his ranch soon, she hadn't thought of the passage of time in terms of days, specifically the number they had originally decided she would need to fully recover from childbirth. Yet when she trailed her gaze to Jonathan's round little face where it rested against Deke's back, she could see how greatly he had changed. His skin was creamy now and blushed from sunshine. His dark hair had grown thick and was beginning to curl. His eyelashes were long and silken on his plump cheeks.

"I didn't realize. The time has passed so quickly."

Deke flashed her a meaningful look, but the twinkle she had grown accustomed to seeing in his eyes wasn't there. "It ain't that I've been markin' off the nights or nothin'."

Laura had to smile at that. She no longer dreaded consummating their marriage. Indeed, with so much coaxing from him, she had even begun to anticipate it. She knew that the abstinence hadn't been easy for him. She wondered if, now that the time had arrived, he felt uncertain of how to approach her. A month ago, she would have found it difficult to believe that Deke Sheridan could feel nervous about anything, much less making love to a woman. But now she knew he wasn't nearly as sure of himself as he pretended to be.

"Well." She rubbed her nose. "Goodness, how does one say this?" Wishing she were brazen enough to do much more, she touched his arm. "I'm no longer suffering from a decided lack of enthusiasm."

He chuckled at that and grazed his knuckles along her cheek, his eyes still dark with wistfulness. "It ain't that, Laura. But I thank you kindly for tellin' me." He touched a fingertip to her eyebrows. "Do you know how much I've come to care for you?" he asked in a tight voice. "For you and the baby."

Laura had begun to guess. Sometimes when he looked at her, she saw the love shining in his eyes. At other times, like right now, she not only saw it in his eyes but felt it in the way he touched her. "I think I know, yes."

He dropped his hand, swallowed hard, and returned his gaze to the stream.

"Deke?"

He gestured with a hand to silence her. "I got a load of things I need to say," he finally told her, "and I ain't real sure where to start."

Laura bent her head and scuffed last autumn's mulched cottonwood leaves with the toe of her moccasin. He wasn't the only one who had some things to get off his chest, and she had the most awful feeling his present distress was a direct result of her reticence. An ache filled her, not just in the region of her heart, but an awful, all-encompassing ache that spread to her belly and made her limbs feel strangely numb. Now that she was recovered enough to travel, was he worried about taking her back to Denver? Was he afraid she might still try to leave him if she was given half the chance?

Oh, Deke. Why hadn't she told him before now how much she had come to care for him? How happy she was when she was with him? That she had no intention of running off, not now, not later, no matter where they happened to be?

Deep down, Laura knew the answer to that. She was afraid. Afraid of taking that final and irrevocable step, of making a commitment, of forging ties that could imprison her for a lifetime. This absolutely wonderful man had given her so very much and had been so endlessly patient, trying to impart to her all the knowledge he could to make her feel self-sufficient. But he couldn't give her courage. That had to come from within herself.

To trust again. To allow herself to need again. Those things didn't come easily to her, and to admit them aloud even less so.

Deke suddenly shifted his weight and repositioned his shoulder against the tree, jerking Laura from her thoughts to gaze up at his profile. He looked so very Indian standing there in the dusky light, but she no longer found that intimidating, and she wouldn't have changed a single thing about him. She had come to appreciate this man just as he was, for who he was, rough edges and all.

A muscle along his jaw ticked, which told her just how tense he felt. He scraped the back of his hand across his mouth. "I gotta tell you somethin', Boston, and you ain't gonna be real happy when you hear it."

Laura wondered what dark secret he thought he was hiding, or what horrid thing about himself he meant to reveal. That he had once stood beneath an oak tree, grieving for love that was lost? Or that he had killed twenty-two rapists, perhaps? Or that he had once lived amongst the Cheyenne and ridden into battle against whites with them? She cared about none of those things. Through no fault of his own, Deke Sheridan was different from any other man she had ever met, and to judge him by ordinary standards would be as silly as expecting an apple to look and taste like an orange.

Reaching deep within, Laura found the courage that had eluded her these last several days. "Whatever you're about to tell me, Deke, it doesn't matter."

"Oh, it matters."

Laura willed him to look at her, but he kept his gaze on the stream.

"You see, darlin', I done somethin' real low-down, and I wasn't gonna tell you I done it until ... well, until it was too late."

"All I care about is what has happened between you and me. Nothing else matters. If you're going to tell me about some horrible thing you once did, forget it. Now that I know you, I probably won't think it was all that horrible, anyway. You can't be blamed for the circumstances you've had to deal with."

"Christ."

Laura touched his arm again. "Deke, I truly mean it. I don't care what you've done or how low-down you think it was."

"I lied to you," he bit out.

Laura drew her hand back and pressed it to her waist. "Oh, I see." After a moment, she smiled. "Well, I suppose I can forgive you for one or two little lies."

"They wasn't little."

Her stomach twisted, and an awful sense of foreboding filled her. Memories. Tristan. For two years he had treated her to a steady diet of treacherous lies. With Deke, she wanted and needed all of that to be behind her, and she couldn't help but feel frightened at the tone in his voice. "What did you lie to me about?"

"Well, you see, that there's just the thing. It was about somethin' real serious." He swiped at his mouth again, then puffed air into his cheeks, a habit he had when he was on the spot. "Before I tell you what the lies was, I'd kinda like to tell why I told 'em so maybe you won't get your tail tied in such a knot over it."

Lies. Plural. She felt as if she might throw up. "Please do."

He shot her a look. "Jesus, you're already gettin' mad, and I ain't even started yet."

He was right, and she knew it. Laura took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. He wasn't Tristan. Maybe he had lied to her, possibly even about something serious, but to immediately believe the worst wasn't fair. "I'm sorry." She waved a hand. "You're right. I, um... It's justafter Tristanwell, the first things that enter my head are trickery and..." She gestured again, at a loss for words. "I guess I've never told you about all that, have I?"

"Christ."

That word. Laura's stomach lurched as if he had punched her. He jerked off his headband of cobalt beads to rake his hand through his hair. Then he tucked the beads into his waistband.

"Laura, you gotta hear me out. Will you give me that much?" He finally turned his gaze to her, and the only word to describe the expression she read there was tormented. "I think I've earned that, ain't I?"

Looking up at him, Laura realized he had earned that much and more. She was reacting to this irrationally, allowing the past to determine her present. What could Deke have lied to her about that might be so horrible or so treacherous that it would kill her feelings for him or eclipse all the wonderful things he had done?

"Yes, you have earned that," she finally replied.

His gaze clung to hers. There was so much love there. All her life, that was all she had ever really wanted, from her father, then from Tristan, just to be loved, not for her accomplishments or worth, but for herself, regardless of flaws, unconditionally. Now, in the most unlikely circumstances with the most unlikely of men, she had finally found what she most wanted. She would be a fool to turn her back on that.

"From the first second I clapped eyes on you, I" He broke off and swallowed hard. "Well, not from the first second, I guess, but sometime durin' that first night, every time I looked at you, it scared hell outa me. You're..." He puffed air into his cheeks again. "Well, to a man like me, Laura, you're a real fine little swatch of calico. Too fine, if you know what I mean. Beautiful ... and fancy-mannered ... andwell, hell, highfalutin' says it all, I reckon. Just the kinda woman I learned a long time ago to avoid. Only, you was in a hell of a fix, and I couldn't."

The pain in his eyes wrapped around Laura's heart and wouldn't let go.

"Anyhow," he went on thickly, "I tried real hard not to like you, and for extra measure, just in case bein' myself wasn't despicable enough, I kinda went outa my way there at first to be more despicable so you wouldn't like me none too much neither."

Laura recollected those times all too well. The momentary silence that fell over them was rife with memories.

"I started seein' straight off that you wasn't like most city gals. No offense meant, but the ones I've met aside from you ... well, there wasn't much to curry after the ride, if you understand what I mean."

Laura hugged her waist and did her best to smother a smile. Only Deke would say something like that to a woman when he was trying to apologize. She supposed that was one of his most endearing qualities, the way he always managed to stick his foot in his mouth, never realizing he had. To Laura, that made him all the more lovable.

"You wasn't like that," he said softly. "You had guts, for starters. And I never heard you whine even once. And I started to like you whether it was smart to or not. Then the likin' turned to real strong fondness. And you went and got sick. After spendin' a week carin' for you and listenin' to you go on, well, I was bogged down up to my hocks and sinkin' fast. And I had me this feelin'way deep downthat we was meant to be together, and that all I needed was a chance to make you see it."

Laura took a step toward him. "Deke, I"

"Now, I know you're probably gonna say that ain't an excuse, that there ain't never no excuse for lyin'. But sometimes, Laura, you just..." He lifted his hands in supplication, then slapped his thighs. "You just want somethin' or someone so bad that right and wrong sorta seem to be ridin' double. You know what I mean?"

At the jerk of Deke's shoulders, Jonathan squirmed. Both Laura and Deke grew quiet a moment to be sure he had drifted back to sleep. When he made no further sound, Deke said, "Where was I?"

"About right and wrong riding double," Laura reminded him. "But before you go on, may I get a word in edgewise?"

He sighed. "You said you'd hear me out."

"I know I did. But first, I'd just like to say that no matter what it was that you lied about, it isn't going to alter my feelings. I may be very angry, but"

"No maybe to it, honey. You're gonna wanna skin me alive and hang my hide on a fence post to dry.

"That bad?"

"I tricked you into marryin' me."

For just an instant, Laura felt an awful coldness grabbing her, but she shook it off. Deke was not Tristan. "I knew it," she said. "You hoodwinked me. There was a way out of this mess all along, wasn't there?"

Laura meant that in a teasing way, but the instant she said it, she saw her mistake. Deke swung his face aside as though she had slapped him.

"Is that still how you feel?" he asked tautly. "That you're stuck in a mess?" Before she could answer, he turned back to regard her. Even in the dusky light she could see the tears shining in his eyes. "'Cause if it is, there's always dee-vorce. It ain't somethin' Cheyenne women does every day, mind you. But if that's what you want, I reckon I can give you plenty of reason."

Laura was so startled by this revelation that she blinked. "Divorce? Cheyenne women are allowed to divorce their husbands?"

"If there's cause."

"What constitutes a cause?" she asked, still amazed.

"Me diddlin' another woman is one."

"If you dare, divorce will be totally unnecessary because I'll murder you."