Anna looked at him, surprised. “I have? How?”
“Before she be like wet hen. Mad at Joke. Mad at Shy Fawn. Really mad at Nick.” He drew his heavy eyebrows together and shook his head.
“And now?” Anna couldn’t wait for the comparison.
“She like pet dog. Always happy to see Joke.”
Anna gave him a quiet laugh. “Joke has changed, too,” she replied.
“Joke changed?”
“Umm,” she said, nodding. “Joke no longer scares ‘Missy Anna’ to death with his war whoops.”
Joke chuckled and pulled off a piece of the strange necklace he always wore, popping it into his mouth.
Anna grimaced. “What is that?” She remembered thinking the pieces had looked like shriveled pig’s ears.
Joke grinned. “Dried fruit.”
Anna’s mouth dropped open. “Fruit?”
“What Missy think it was?” He plucked off a piece and handed it to her.
Anna laughed and pinched the fruit between her fingers before taking a small bite. “You wouldn’t believe it.” She finished the fruit, which tasted like dried apricot, and daintily licked her fingers.
“Missy like Nick?”
Heavens, just the sound of his name sent her foolish heart pounding. She gave Joke a nervous smile. “Of … of course.”
“Missy like Nick a lot?”
She laughed, the sound strained and anxious. “I guess … in spite of his stubborn nature, he is, or … could be a … a fine man,” she said, stumbling over her tongue.
Joke nodded his approval. “Missy share Nick’s blanket?”
“Share his blanket?” What a puzzling question. She shook her head and crossed to the bed. “Oh, that won’t be necessary, Joke. I have one of my own, see?”
Joke guffawed. “That’s a good one, Missy,” he said, laughing as he walked toward the door. “Joke always like a good joke. That why he named ‘Joke.’ ”
She heard him chuckling as he closed her cabin door. As she hung the laurel branch on a hook over the fireplace, she realized she liked, him, and wondered how the others felt about her. As she crushed the leaves and scattered them over the floor, she realized she was still an outsider. Oh, the children liked her, and Joke had become her friend, but to Shy Fawn and Nicolas, she was still someone on the outside, looking in. She didn’t think there was any way Shy Fawn’s opinion of her would change, and Nicolas’s opinion of her was even worse. As long as he believed she was a weak, shallow white woman who thought of herself above everyone else in the compound, he would never see her as she really was.
She tossed the last of the laurel on the floor, then fell facedown on her bed, exhausted. She sighed into the pillow, remembering how very much she wanted a warm, soapy tub bath. And a shampoo. And some Swedish meatballs with mashed potatoes and rich, creamy gravy. And a piece of warm, potato lefse smeared with butter and sugar. And some dinner conversation …
Oh, God, she was lonely, and so alone here. What she wouldn’t give to hear Emma’s infectious giggle. And how she missed the grown-up way her baby sister Lily had of scolding the kittens when she found them eating bugs instead of the rice mush their mother had tossed out. Oh, she missed her sisters so much. And she missed her mother … she especially missed her mother …
The tears that stung her eyes trickled into her pillow, and she gave herself up to them. It was the first time she’d allowed her overwhelming feelings of homesickness to chink her newly formed armor. And once the crying began, her armor fell away like so much rusty debris.
Chapter Nine
When Anna awakened, the afternoon sun was skimming the tops of the tall Jeffrey pines. She rose groggily from the bed and pulled off her dress and crinolines. After removing her corset, she slipped back into her Nainsook corset cover and tightened the drawstring on her drawers.
She glanced at the fire Joke had made earlier. It was dying, the flames clinging desperately to a single charred tinder. She crossed the room and, with effort, lifted a log onto the grate. The blaze licked its way up the sides of the wood, then flared up the chimney.
Turning from the fireplace, she glanced at the table and saw the food June had promised her earlier. She went over, sat down and lifted the plate to her nose. Shrugging lethargically, she put the plate back on the table. She wasn’t terribly hungry anymore. She felt drained. But better.
As she picked up her fork and toyed with the cold salmon, her thoughts again went to her family. Despite her mother’s betrayal, Anna knew she wasn’t a bad person. She’d done the best she could in raising the girls. She was just weak. Terribly, terribly weak. And even if her mother had never mentioned it out loud, Anna knew she would wonder whether or not she had arrived in Pine Valley safely. She should write her, but what would she tell her?
Dear Mother—I’ve been kidnapped by a half-breed and taken into the mountains to teach a bunch of wild Indian children … She smiled wearily. Right, Anna, do tell them that And she wasn’t getting along all that well with Nicolas at the moment. He might even refuse to let her contact her family at all.
She shoved her plate away and sat back in the chair, wondering how she could convince Nicolas to mail a letter for her. A slow, humorless smile spread across her face. Perhaps she should remind him that it was his duty to do at least that much for her. But, of course, that was a foolish thought. Nicolas Gaspard paid duty to no one but himself.
Pushing herself away from the table, she stood up and went to the commode to wash her face, remembering how much she had wanted a bath. A hot, soapy tub bath. She groaned as she looked at the pitiful amount of water in the basin. Quickly opening the drawer, she pulled out a flannel towel and a bar of soap. After she’d slipped into her dressing gown, she picked up her bath supplies and left the cabin.
Her legs moved her along woodenly as she followed the path that led to the river. Strange, eerie sounds floated out from the wooded shadows around her, but she nudged her feelings of unease aside.
She could smell the river in the distance. As enticing as the fragrance of the lush, green vegetation was, she would have traded all of it for a hot bath in the blink of an eye. Oh, the luxuries of civilization …
Civilization. She wondered when she would see it again. It didn’t do much good to think about it. She would just make the best of things. She was discovering strength she didn’t even know she had. No one back home would ever have believed that Anna Jenson could survive in the mountains, living with a band of renegade Indians. She smiled at the wild sound of it. After all, no one had to know that most of the renegades were children.
She swatted away the mosquitoes that whined in her ears as she walked through the damp woods, hoping she wouldn’t have to fight off insects once she got to the river. She ran her fingers through her hair and scratched her scalp, noting with disgust that her hair badly needed washing.
She broke through the woods, pulling off her dressing gown as she hurried down to the rugged brown fringe of sand and pebbles that edged the water. Leaving her dressing gown and her towel on the dock, she swallowed her fear, wading in until the cool, mountain water lapped at the waist of her drawers. Oh, it felt so good. Bracing herself, she grabbed the dock and took a deep breath, dunking her head in the cold water, soaping her hair, ducking again to rinse, repeating the process until her hair was squeaky clean.
Anna waded back toward shore, picking her towel off the dock, drying her hair as she stood in the water. All of a sudden she had the spooky feeling that she was no longer alone. She brought her gaze up slowly and her heart stopped.
Staring at her, eye to eye, towered a huge grizzly bear.
He was massive. The brown fur on his back lightened to tan across his face. His ruff was thick and heavy, almost hiding his small, rounded ears.
Suddenly, he reared up on his back legs and spread his front paws. Anna’s knees weakened, and she gripped the side of the dock. As she stared, frozen with fear, he stamped his huge back feet and urinated, displaying a threatenin
g male stance before he lifted his sensitive nose to the wind. He thumped back down on all fours and continued to stare at her.
Her eyes were riveted on the bear’s long, powerful, curved claws and his trap-sharp teeth. Cold terror raced through her, and a bubble of hysteria pressed against her throat. Slowly she took a step sideways.
The grizzly’s hair ruffled up, much like a dog’s when it’s ready to fight. Unable to stop herself, Anna opened her mouth to scream. But the sound that came out was pitifully thin and quickly muffled by the breeze.
The grizzly let out a bullying growl. Prickles of fear nudged her spine, and her heart thumped wildly.
She gulped down another hysterical scream as her voice tried desperately to push through the lump in her throat. She took another step toward the sandy shore—and the path that led to the compound.
The grizzly moved in front of her, cutting her off. Slowly, Anna waded downstream, and the bear followed, blocking her only means of escape. She frantically looked along the shore, hoping to find something that would help, but saw nothing except sand and rock—and a grim future, if she had a future at all.
She moved along the edge of the river and the bear followed, always staying abreast of her, never hurrying ahead or lagging behind, the lump of fear in Anna’s throat swelled. She sucked in a breath, willing her knees to stop shaking and her teeth to stop chattering. She prayed for a tree, one lone tree that grew out beyond the others, beyond the bushes that shielded the bear.
They moved farther downstream, she and the grizzly playing the game of cat and mouse. Now and then the wind brought his scent to her nostrils, and she knew that if she lived beyond this moment, she would never forget the heavy, cloying smell of his warm, damp fur.
She sneaked a furtive glance at the waning sun, wondering how long they had been inching along. It seemed like hours. No, she thought, stiffening against a shudder, more like a lifetime. The minutes dragged by, and her search for an escape became only a fleeting, frantic hope. Suddenly, up ahead, she saw a big log shoved at an angle against an oak tree. She held her breath and moved toward it.
When she finally reached out to touch the tree, she felt a hand on hers, and before her terror turned to a scream, she was pulled high up in the tree and dragged into a pair of strong, brown arms.
Nicolas! She closed her eyes and fought the urge to cry, clung to him with relief as her body shook and short, shaky sobs spilled from her throat. Tears pushed through her tightly closed eyelids, and she bit her lower lip to keep from crying out loud. Sagging against his solid, warm chest, she clutched his thigh, squeezing the skin between her fingers.
Then the bear snorted angrily and lumbered to the base of the tree. He stood up on his hind legs, pushing against the tree with his huge front paws.
“Ohhh!” Anna wailed, attempting to get up and move higher.
“Sit down.” Nicolas pulled her closer, his arm coming around her torso and across her breasts.
“But—But he’s—” She was close to hysterics.
“He can’t climb the tree, Anna. Sit still”
She heard the stern order in his voice and tried to calm herself. She shouldn’t fall apart now that she was safe in his arms. She found his firm grip more of a comfort than a caress. Bringing her hand to his arm, she rubbed his hard flesh from his knuckles to his elbow with nervous, unwitting fingers.
The minutes dragged by. The furtive night birds and animals had fled in the wake of the grizzly. The air was eerily quiet except for the angry, savage sounds of the animal at the base of the tree, and the occasional swoosh of the leaves as the bear rocked the dead trunk against the oak that was supporting it.
“Nicolas?” Her teeth were chattering. How long would they have to stay up here?
“Shh,” he soothed, rubbing her icy arms with his warm hands.
He moved his hands away, but Anna pulled them back, folding his arms in front of her. She needed his warmth. She wanted him wrapped around her. As she pressed her head into the hollow of his shoulder, he nudged her head gently with his jaw, as if offering her his strength.
Anna stared down at the snarling animal and shrank inside when she realized just how massive he really was. How dose I came … She closed her eyes and willed the knots in her muscles to relax.
Nicolas reacted to her shiver by pulling her closer.
She leaned against him, trying to block out the fear that had bunched her muscles into knots in the first place.
“Even the children know better than to go to the river alone,” he scolded.
There was a certain anxiety in his voice, a sound that didn’t blend with the words he spoke. She wanted to apologize for her stupid actions, but was afraid to talk.
Abruptly, the grizzly pushed himself away from the trunk and wandered toward a patch of succulent wildflowers just beyond the trees. Anna knew they couldn’t leave until he was long gone.
They were in a unique spot. Nicolas was resting against the huge dark trunk, with Anna pulled close against his chest. The base of the branch where it joined the tree was wide and strong, making a perfect seat.
Until this moment, fear had prevented her from realizing just how compromising their position was. Now, nestled against his chest with her eyes closed, she could feel something pressing against the small of her back. She flushed and tried to inch away from him, pushing against the hard thighs that cradled her. Surprised, she glanced down and saw her white hand against his tanned skin, skin pulled taut over bulging thigh muscles peppered with black hair. Gulping nervously, she drew her hand back and attempted to move away, but his hold on her was tight, and she ended up rubbing against him even more.
The tension grew. She knew that he, too, had become aware, for his arm moved, and his hand slid slowly across her muslin-covered breasts.
Anna’s nipples tightened, hardening quickly in response to his touch. She laid her head back against his shoulder and held her breath, her nerves on tenterhooks as he caressed her.
Nicolas pulled aside her heavy, wet hair and gently ran his teeth over the soft skin of her shoulder. She felt his breath in her ear, and a fresh wave of desire rolled over her skin.
She opened her eyes and gazed at the ground, then at the wildflowers. The bear was gone.
“If you ever scare me like this again,” he said, shifting his weight and moving her aside, “I’ll tan your precious behind.”
Anna clutched the tree for support. “But Nicolas,” she said, still shaking, “I needed a bath.”
“Damn your bath. You could have been ripped to shreds.” He lowered himself to the ground.
She smiled at him through fresh tears. He cared! A delicious fever seeped through her cold, numb skin. “But I wasn’t. You saved me.”
He looked up at her, his face grim, the muscles in his jaw tight. “Next time you need a bath, let me know.”
Despite her haphazard thoughts and feelings, or maybe because of them, she warmed at the idea.
She slid to the edge of the tree seat and started down. When his fingers clamped around her waist, she put her hands on his shoulders. Once on the ground, in his arms, Anna felt her carefully tucked-in emotions fall apart. Knowing she was safe, and remembering clearly that she hadn’t expected to see another day, she began sobbing, quietly at first, then with gasping breaths.
“Oh, Nicolas,” she said, momentarily getting a grip on herself, “thank God you came. I didn’t know what to do. I … I knew I couldn’t run, and even if I’d tried, my legs wouldn’t have moved fast enough—” Another fit of sobbing came over her, and she pressed herself against his hard, warm chest, wanting to burrow closer.
“You did the right thing. You kept your head. But, dammit, don’t you dare put either of us through this again.” He lifted her chin with his strong brown fingers and brushed away her tears.
There was a softness in his eyes that pulled at something deep inside her. He’d never looked at her that way before. She gave him a tentative smile, reached up and touched the deformed
skin near his temple.
His hand whipped up and grabbed here, but instead of pushing it away, he pressed it in his own. Anna swallowed hard, her feelings for him suddenly so intense, she felt fresh tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Don’t look at me that way, schoolmistress.” His voice was soft and husky, then he brought her wrist to his mouth and pressed his lips against the soft inner side where her pulse thrummed.
Anna’s smile wavered only slightly. How else could she look at him? He was wonderful.
His eyes darkened as his face lowered to hers. His lips touched hers, gently at first. Her heart pounded with emotion at his familiar touch and smell. When the tone of the kiss changed and he impatiently opened his mouth over hers, pressing deep, her hands, reacquainted with seduction, moved nervously over his chest.
He continued to kiss her, but gripped her hands and flattened them against his skin, moving them over his nipples. She thrilled at the shudder that passed through his body at her touch.
She let him guide her palms over his firm, lightly furred chest, across his stomach, then lower. Her fingers touched the smooth hide of his breechcloth. Slowly, almost shyly, she let her hand drop to the heavy bulge behind the barrier.
He groaned into her mouth, shuddering a response that made her pulse race with desire. Relief suddenly made her savage in her needs, all the hysteria she’d felt earlier becoming a hunger for his touch.
He pulled away briefly. His eyes were dark, hidden beneath his wide, handsome brow, but she could sense that they were as full of heat as her own.
He bent again, holding her head within the palms of his hands, and pressed his mouth to hers once more. His tongue boldly ventured inside, warm and brazen as it scored the surface of hers. She touched this newfound love tool with her own, and he became a gentle seducer, teaching her to stroke, to flick, to touch. When he pulled her tongue into his mouth, she boldly pulled it back and took his with her, imprisoning it in her mouth, unwittingly relaying to him an answering response to an age-old question of love and need.
Secrets of a Midnight Moon--The Moon Trilogy--Book One Page 14