"But your father-"
Reaching out, he touched her face lovingly and stared into her vivid blue eyes. "My rather was sometimes wrong, Makinna. I never want our sons to be burdened with the secret of the Perdenelas' treasure."
His statement brought a gasp to her lips. She wanted to feel Tykota's arms around her, but she still did not trust her own heart. "Our son?" she echoed weakly.
His dark gaze probed hers. "Yes, our son. For this I swear, Makinna, you will have no man's sons but mine."
A sob escaped her lips as he tore off his sling and hugged her to him. "Tykota! she cried.
"I want to fill you with sons and daughters," he whispered against her hair, closing his eyes and absorbing her essence. "I do not believe that any man has ever loved a woman as I love you."
She raised her head and saw the passion in his dark eyes. "If I can't have your children, Tykota, I will have no other man's child."
He growled as his arms tightened about her. "We had better have the wedding soon, because I do not think my mother will like what I am thinking."
She laughed. "The tack room?"
"How soon will you marry me?"
She placed a finger over his mouth. "Tykota, are you sure this is what you want? I know how you felt about your tribe and safeguarding them and the treasure."
Tykota reached inside his vest and withdrew something, which he placed in the palm of her hand.
Makinna glanced down at the two leather armbands with the golden eagles, and the significance of his gesture struck her like lightning. "Oh, Tykota."
"Beloved, I have found in you something more precious than any treasure, and a love more timeless than the sacred mountain."
His lips brushed hers, and he held her tighter against him. Neither of them spoke. It was enough to touch, to feel, to let their love for each other transcend the pain of the past.
Finally Tykota raised his head and lightly kissed her lips. "Makinna, you are so much a part of me, that when you breathe, I take a breath; when you are hurt, I feel pain. Say you will walk through life with me."
Happiness flowed through her, and she pressed her cheek to his. "Yes, oh, yes, Tykota."
He took her hand and led her toward the house. "Come, let us tell my mother." He stopped and quirked an eyebrow at her. "Unless, of course, you would rather I take you to the tack room."
She steered him toward the front door. "No. I think that will wait until I am Mrs. Tykota Silverhorn."
"You had better plan a wedding quickly then, because I do not intend to wait much longer to take you to bed." He slid a hand across her breast, and she felt him tremble. "I have known the joy of your body, and I want to know it every day of my life."
He gave her a long, drugging kiss, but finally Makinna broke it off and moved a safe distance away to look up at him. "You have no doubts?"
"None."
"Where will we live?"
"Here, Makinna. Here on Biquera Ranch we will raise our sons and daughters." He looked down at her. "With you, I have found peace for my restless soul. You have brought true love into my life." He closed his eyes for a moment. "Peace is wonderful."
"Oh, I do hope so, Tykota," she said with feeling. "That is what I want for you above all else. I have watched you struggle, watched you torn between two worlds. The pain of your struggle has been like a knife in my heart."
Tykota raised his eyes and stared at the distant lightning as the first drops of rain begin to hit the roof of the ranch house. "I like to think my father knows and would approve. If he loved my mother half as much as I love you, he is smiling from the Spirit World right now."
Makinna closed her eyes as Tykota enveloped her in his arms. "If there is love," she said softly, "it will find a way."
Makinna shaded her eyes against the glare of the Texas sun and laughed down at her daughter, Yalinda, a dark-eyed, dark-haired little beauty who looked so much like her father. The child was giggling and tugging at Makinna's skirt.
She lifted her into her arms and walked toward the corral. She braced Yalinda on the top rung of the rail fence, and they both watched Tykota instruct young Coloradous.
"My son," he said, "you must never have any fear of a horse. Here in the desert country, your horse will be your best friend. He will often be your only hope between life and death."
Makinna watched Tykota place their threeyear-old son, Coloradous, on the back of a pinto. Unlike his sister, who had the coloring of her Indian heritage, Coloradous looked more like Makinna. His hair was light brown, and his eyes were a startlingly beautiful golden color.