MM02 - Until Morning Comes by Peggy Webb Page B

purple. The long shadow of the mountain melted into the surrounding darkness, and Jo Beth sat on the front porch swing, at peace.
    Out of the darkness came the cooing of a turtledove. Jo Beth stopped swinging to listen. The call sounded once more. How could that be? she wondered. A dove in this barren place with no forests nearby?
    There was a small rustle, and Colter stepped out of the darkness. Jo Beth put her hand over her heart.
    “You startled me.”
    “I didn't mean to.” He propped one foot on the front porch steps and watched her.
    “How did you get here? I didn't hear an engine, or a horse either.”
    “I ran.”
    He didn't look as if he had been running. In the narrow light provided by the moon, he was as unhurried and unruffled as if he had stepped from an air-conditioned limousine. Even his chest, bare in the moonlight, didn't show a sign of perspiration.
    Jo Beth set her swing into gentle notion, rocking and looking at Colter. She had learned silences from him, so she waited for him to speak.
    He didn't for a long while, content to watch the play of light over Jo Beth's fair hair. The creaking of rusty hinges on the swing was the only sound. Finally Colter spoke.
    “While I was running, I decided that a perfect day should have a perfect ending.” He climbed the steps and moved across the porch until he was standing in front of her. Catching the chains, he brought the swing to a halt. “A perfect ending demands a perfect woman.”
    “I'm not perfect, Colter.”
    “You're close enough.”
    He sat down beside her, resting his arm along the back of the swing. His forearm brushed the sensitive skin at the back of her neck. That small contact was enough to make her shiver.
    He noticed and smiled. With one moccasined foot he set the swing into motion again.
    “I'm glad you came, Colter. I haven't thanked you properly for what you did today.”
    He smiled. “How does a Mississippi girl properly thank a slightly confused San Francisco doctor?”
    “Like this.” With a wicked grin, she shook his hand.
    “Let me rephrase that question. How does a pretty Yellow Bird thank a hungry Gray Wolf?”
    She reached toward the back of the swing and pulled his arm down over her shoulder. Then she slid across the slatted swing and took his face between her hands.
    “Like this.”

 
     
    Chapter Five
    She kissed him with exquisite tenderness. The swing continued its rocking, and across the porch Zar thumped his tail on the wooden floor. The stars moved through the velvet blackness of the heavens, and the moon kept its course across the vast sky.
    Without breaking contact, Colter shifted Jo Beth onto his lap. One foot renewed the motion of the swing so that they swayed together, gently, like two night-blooming flowers in a friendly breeze.
    They finally reached a break point, and they had to stop or plunge over the edge.
    “Stopping is pain,” he said, his mouth only a fraction of an inch from her lips.
    “My parents are inside.”
    “And I'm still being noble.” He settled her head against his chest, stroking her hair and swinging. “I had no idea that hair could be such a powerful aphrodisiac.”
    “Is it?”
    “It's always the first thing I notice about you... this bright and shining cascade of hair.”
    She rested her hand on his chest, right over his heart, and sat quietly, content to listen to the mystical music of his voice.
    “Before I came to Arizona, I had almost given up running. For one thing, I didn't have time. But the need was there... Apaches have always been great athletes, you know. Swift runners.”
    Zar ambled over and rubbed against Colter's legs. Colter bent down to pat the dog's head, then settled back with Jo Beth in his arms.
    “Don't stop, Colter. The sound of your voice is soothing.”
    “Your cabin is dark tonight.”
    “My parents went to bed early, and I wanted to sit in the dark.”
    “At first I thought all of you had gone to bed, and then I saw your hair, shining through the