A burning Indian expletive took Nicolas’s gaze away from Anna and toward her cabin, where Shy Fawn was limping toward them, shrugging her shoulders and gesticulating wildly. She stopped at the table, her own normally smooth, glossy hair blowing wildly around her temples, and babbled angrily in her native tongue.
“English, Shy Fawn, English,” Nicolas said, outwardly patient, but discomforted by this confrontation with Anna.
“When I opened the door to give her some lunch, she pushed me down and ran outside.”
Anna put her fists on her hips. “See what I mean?”
The color of the fabric against the clear skin above her breasts reminded Nicolas of sweet, juicy peaches in a bowl of rich cream. He pushed to the back of his mind the desire to lave her sweet hide with his tongue.
“Why don’t you just push my food under the door?” Anna shouted. “Isn’t that the way most prisoners are fed?”
Nicolas closed his eyes briefly and groaned. “I don’t think this is the place to discuss this—”
“Oh, I think it’s the very place,” Anna interrupted, angrily pushing another wayward curl off her face.
Nicolas gave in. After all, he’d have to learn to trust her sometime. “All right. Shy Fawn, tell Black Joke to remove the lock.”
He turned to Anna. Her cheeks were soft and pink, belying the fury he saw storming in her eyes. “Happy now?” When she gave him a curt nod, he added, “The bars on the windows will take a while.”
“I don’t even care about them,” she answered with an abrupt wave of her hand. “As long as I can go in and out, you can leave your precious bars. Maybe they’ll remind me that no matter what I do or say, I’m still your prisoner.”
When she turned and marched stiffly away from him, Nicolas repeated his order to Shy Fawn, then looked sheepishly at Sky. “I think I’ve underestimated her.”
Sky gave him a knowing smile. “She’s not quite what I thought she’d be.”
Nicolas scratched his chin. That’s an understatement. He tossed out his cold coffee and poured himself half a cup. “She’s not what I expected, either,” he muttered, eyeing her slim back and tiny waist.
“So,” Sky said, clearing his throat. “You say she came along voluntarily? How long has she volunteered to stay?”
Nicolas glowered into his coffee cup. “All right, just say it.”
“You kidnapped her.”
Nicolas caught the twinkle in Sky’s usually somber eyes. “Yes, I kidnapped her. But believe me, it hasn’t been pleasant. Dammit, she natters away at me like a fishwife. Do you know,” he ranted, “that she was going to crack open my skull with her chamber pot?” He took a sip of coffee and burned his tongue. He swore again.
Sky grinned. “And she missed?”
Nicolas gave him a dark look. “Crazy woman dumped it all over herself, and I had to haul her to the river to clean her up.”
Sky gave his friend a look of mock sympathy. “A pity. She is certainly loathsome to look upon. It must have been a chore to bathe such soft, white skin.”
Nicolas looked away and cursed the swelling in his loins as he recalled their little skirmish on the beach. “She’s just another spoiled white girl.”
“But she is teaching the children?”
“She is,” Nicolas answered, rubbing his tender tongue gently behind his teeth. He remembered the unusual methods he had seen her use in the schoolroom. It had pleased him.
“She has not tried to run away?” Sky probed.
“She probably would have, if I hadn’t locked her in.”
“Um-hmm.” Sky pushed away his empty plate and steepled his fingers in front of him. “And you don’t know why she’s angry with you?”
Nicolas scowled. “Of course I do. I just wish she could understand why I had to bring her here in the first place.”
“She doesn’t understand?” Sky asked, puzzled.
“I haven’t told her.”
“And you’re surprised she is so angry?” Sky chuckled. “Just when did you plan to tell her these are all children you’ve rescued from the whites? After she was old and gray and ready for a rocking chair?”
“I don’t know.” Nicolas shot out of his chair. He was still afraid to tell Anna everything. He didn’t trust her that much, even if she did have a right to know.
Sky got to his feet as well. “Things might go better for you once she understands.” Sky put his hand on Nicolas’s shoulder. “It will work out, my friend,” he said wisely, looking over at Shy Fawn, who was nursing her child.
Again, Nicolas caught Sky’s interest in the crippled woman. “Yes,” he said, his black mood lifting, “I believe you’re right.” He walked Sky back to the stable and watched him trot into the forest on his bay gelding.
As Nicolas turned to leave, he saw Black Joke coming from Anna’s cabin, the lock dangling from his fingers. He gave Nicolas a wide grin. “Maestra storm like a cloud full of thunder.”
“So she took her anger out on you, too, huh, Joke?”
Joke continued to grin. “She so tiny. She remind Joke of a mosquito buzzing in a grizzly’s ear.”
Nicolas chuckled as he walked past him. “I couldn’t have made a better comparison, Joke.”
But as he went to his quarters, Nicolas realized she was leaving a far greater impression on him than a mosquito bite would leave on a bear.
Chapter Seven
The fragrance of sun-baked lodgepole pine needles wafted through the schoolroom. The morning was almost gone, and the day promised to be hot, for Anna could already feel perspiration dotting her temples. The children felt the heat as well. They squirmed on their mats, unable to concentrate on their lessons.
“All right,” she said, glancing at the delicate gold watch she had pinned to her bodice. “We’ll continue with this tomorrow.”
The children giggled and grinned as they picked up their mats and stacked them against the wall before going outside. Two Leaf stayed behind to put away the supplies and straighten up the room.
Anna couldn’t believe she’d been teaching for over a week. She also couldn’t believe it had been that long since she’d spoken to or seen Nicolas. She couldn’t count the times she’d foolishly glanced toward the door, half expecting him to walk through and stand at the back, as he had that first day.
She looked out the window. The scene had been the same all week: blue skies, sunshine, warm wind filtering through the open windows, the tangy, earthy smells of summer … and not a sign of Nicolas.
Pulling in a deep breath, she drew her gaze back to her desk. If she were really a clever girl, she’d be thankful that he hadn’t been around to muddle her thoughts. Oh, she’d been busy enough. And hours could go by without so much as a recollection of Nicolas making impertinent, impromptu visits to her cabin, or Nicolas hauling her into his arms for a fevered kiss, or Nicolas at the river, stripped and splendidly naked. …
She pushed out a whoosh of air and fanned her cheeks as the memory spread through her like hot chocolate on a cold winter night.
“Miss Anna?”
Blinking furiously, she looked up at Two Leaf.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, his strong, wide brow furrowed.
Giving him a half smile, she shook her head. “No, I’m just warm, Two Leaf.” Well, she thought, it wasn’t a lie.
She recalled her last confrontation with Nicolas, when he’d been sitting at the table with his friend. She surely must have seemed like a raving shrew to that poor man, for he’d kept his face away from her. No doubt he’d been embarrassed for Nicolas. But then, that wasn’t her fault, was it? If Nicolas hadn’t kept her locked up like a criminal even after she’d promised to stay, she would have been the picture of politeness.
She smoothed the wrinkle from the skirt of her brown dress, then straightened each cuffed sleeve. She certainly had been taught all the proper manners, even if she hadn’t come from a well-to-do, upper-class family. In fact, manners had been hammered into her and her sisters daily. Neve
r would she have thought something or someone could make her so angry that she would forget everything she’d been taught. But because of her tantrum, Black Joke had removed the lock and she’d been free to come and go as she pleased. At least she’d accomplished that.
Returning to the present, she realized that Two-Leaf was standing beside her. “Did you need something?”
His brows drew together as he looked at the books on her desk. He reached for one. “What’s this book?”
“It’s a book of poems.”
“Will you read me one?”
Pleased, Anna opened the book, flipping the pages until she came to “The Village Blacksmith.”
“Here’s one I think you’ll like.”
When she finished the poem, Two Leaf let out a big sigh. “I really liked that. It reminds me of Joke. What was his name, again?”
“Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.”
“Longfellow,” Two Leaf mused. “Is he an Indian?”
“I don’t think so. But you know,” she added, suddenly remembering, “I think he wrote a long poem about an Indian brave. It’s called … ‘The Song of Hiawatha.’ ”
Two Leaf s eyes lit up. “Do you have it?”
“Oh my, no.” Anna touched the book with loving fingers. “I’d love to have a copy, though.”
“I’ll bet Nick could get you one.”
Anna glanced at the boy, whose adoration for his hero gleamed in his eyes. “I’m sure he could,” she said, humoring him.
“Well, I’m done cleaning up.”
“Thank you, Two Leaf.”
When the boy was gone, Anna left the schoolroom too. Having too much energy to go back to the boredom of her lonely cabin, she strolled over to the work area under the trees. “Is there something I can do to help?”
June, who was grinding acorns with a stone pestle, gave her a look of panic. She stopped working and began wringing her hands. “Oh, no, Miss Anna. Holy cow! You’re not supposed to work.”
June’s comical grasp of Americanisms always made Anna smile. “I’m not?”
“No. Golly, Nicolas said you’re the maestra.” Her eyes got big as saucers. “You can’t work.”
“He said that, did he?” Her answer was far lighter than the rebellion clouding her mood. By telling these young women what Anna could and couldn’t do, Nicolas was placing her above them. She didn’t want them to think she wasn’t willing to do her share. “Well, I’d like to learn what you’re doing, and I want to help.”
June shook her head and brought her hands to her mouth. “Oh, but Nic—”
“I’ll handle Nicolas,” Anna interrupted. “Now. What can I do?”
The older girls exchanged helpless looks, then turned to Shy Fawn, who plucked her fussy baby from the ground and opened her dress so the child could nurse. “Acorn meal needs leaching,” she said with an air of authority.
“All right,” Anna answered, feeling utterly useless. “How do I do that?”
June dropped the stone pestle with a thud and hurried to Shy Fawn, swinging her thin arms in the air. “No! Nicolas will be mad!”
Shy Fawn stared at Anna. “She wants to help.”
“But she can’t—”
“Of course I can, June. Now, show me what to do.” Anna was determined to do this job even if it killed her. Nicolas was obviously accustomed to dictating everyone’s movements, but he wasn’t going to dictate hers.
June shook her head, her eyes wide and frightened. “Nick will be so mad …”
Anna gave her a warm smile. “I’m sure Shy Fawn can show me what to do.” She glanced at the woman, who looked away. “Shy Fawn?”
Shy Fawn pointed to a large, wide-mouthed basket that sat next to a hole under the trees. “The meal must be poured over the sand in that hole.” She quickly explained the process step by step, then put Cub down on a soft fur rug and returned to her sewing.
Anna took a deep breath, unbuttoned the sleeves of her brown muslin dress, pushed them up to her elbows and walked over to the basket. She gripped the sides, attempting to lift it. “Uff Da!”
The Swedish epithet whooshed out as soon as she realized there was no way she was going to carry the basket anywhere. Taking another deep breath, she dug her heels into the soft earth, grabbed the sides of the heavy basket and slowly dragged it over to the sand-filled pit. She looked behind her at the path of bent grass the heavy basket had made, and blew out a lusty mouthful of air.
The hot, dry wind picked up her skirt and ballooned it out around her, snaking under her petticoats to caress her legs. Her underarms prickled with perspiration, but she ignored the uncomfortable feeling, gritted her teeth and shoved the basket onto its side. The contents spilled out onto the ground, and the capricious breeze scooped up some of the dusty grain, tossing it into the air. Anna sneezed and rubbed her eyes. Fighting back the urge to sneeze again, she tipped the basket on end and emptied it.
She straightened up and winced, pressing her hands into the small of her back. “What do I use for the water, Shy Fawn?”
Shy Fawn pointed to several baskets, somewhat smaller than the one she’d just dragged across the compound. Anna took out her handkerchief and dabbed the moisture from her face and neck as she went to the baskets. Peering inside one, she noticed it was black inside. “What’s this?” she asked, tipping one sideways and showing it to Shy Fawn.
Shy Fawn barely glanced at her. “Pine pitch.”
Anna wrinkled her nose, then remembered that Nicolas had shown her a basket like this weeks before. “It doesn’t come off when it’s wet?”
“No. It keeps the water from leaking out.”
Anna shrugged and made her way to the river, dragging the basket along behind her. She glanced up at the tall, sheer granite that stood sentry on the other side of the river, and realized that she’d not only been imprisoned in the cabin, but in the compound as well. The place, hidden as it was in the lush, green valley, was like a scene from prehistory. She almost expected huge gray dinosaurs to come thrashing through the brush, bellowing their ancient sounds.
She shivered at the thought and walked out onto a small wooden platform that had been built out over the stream, knelt down and filled her basket with water. With considerable effort, she pulled the heavy container onto the planking. Lifting it, however, was another matter. Tugging relentlessly, she got it as far as the grass, then looked up at the hill she had to climb to get back to the compound.
She turned around and, with her back to the hill, started up, her fanny high in the air as she attempted to drag the basket of water with two hands. She’d barely lugged the water five feet when she stepped on the hem of her dress and lost her balance. Thinking quickly, she sat down and grabbed the basket, preventing it from tipping over on top of her. She tried to catch her breath and attempted to ignore the sweat that trickled down between her breasts.
Too stubborn to give up, she began the upward climb again. Her breathing was labored and she grunted softly as she trudged up backward. She took a quick glance behind her to see how much farther she had to go, and suddenly her shoes slipped out from under her on the slick, damp grass. Yelping in frustration, she released the basket so she could break her fall, and found herself sliding down the hill on her back and watching the precious water disappear into the ground.
Pulling herself to her feet, she looked around, hoping no one had seen her blunder. She blew the hair from her eyes, picked up the empty basket and filled it again; only this time she didn’t fill it to the top. She found the lighter basket easier to handle, and, without too much trouble, made her way slowly back to the compound.
“How many—” Anna stopped to catch her breath in front of Shy Fawn and tried to ignore the stinging sensation of the perspiration as it ran into her eyes. “How many of these do I need?”
“Three more cold, then two hot.” Shy Fawn didn’t look up from her sewing.
Already tired and sweating like a mare, Anna sighed and shook her head. As she made her way back to the river,
she stopped to push the damp hair that was clinging to her forehead and temples back into the precise bun she’d fashioned early in the morning. When she realized there was nothing left of her prim hairdo but a heavy ball of hair hanging down her back, she gave up and took the wearying walk to the water feeling like a frazzled scullery maid.
After her third trip, her heart thudding from exertion and her breath labored, she watched the water disappear through the acorn meal. “What … what does the water do?”
Shy Fawn didn’t look up. “Acorns have a bitter taste. The water washes it away.”
Anna put the empty basket back with the others. “Why don’t you get flour from town?”
“White man’s flour?” Shy Fawn made a spitting noise, leaving no question in Anna’s mind as to how she felt.
Hiding the extent of her weariness from Shy Fawn, she asked, “What’s the next step?”
“Hot water. Many soakings.”
Anna turned away and wearily rolled her eyes. Exhaustion pummeled the muscles in her back and arms as she dragged yet another basket of water from the river. Just as she finished bringing up the last of it, Two Leaf came running over to her.
“Miss Anna! Why are you carrying water from the river?” He took her hand and pulled her over to a low table. “Shy Fawn had me haul water for the leaching before school this morning.”
Anna’s mouth fell open and she slowly turned and looked at Shy Fawn. Bent over her sewing, the Indian woman was the picture of innocence. Anna’s eyes flashed angrily. Shy Fawn had put her through this on purpose!
“How foolish of me,” she said, attempting to hide her feelings. She gave Two Leaf a tired smile. “Now you won’t have to haul so much water the next time.”
He gave Shy Fawn a puzzled look, then turned back to Anna. “Would you like me to show you how to heat the water?”
“I would like that very much, Two Leaf.” She was so grateful for the boy’s help, she had to restrain herself from hugging him.
Two Leaf showed her how to use the long, wooden tongs to pick up the heated stones and drop them carefully into the basket of water. When he had gone, she glanced at Shy Fawn, bent so industriously over her work, and her initial anger dissipated. She stooped down beside Cub, who had just tossed a noisy toy off his blanket. She picked up the toy and inspected it. “What’s this?”
Secrets of a Midnight Moon--The Moon Trilogy--Book One Page 10