“You’ve told me no before, but I wanta make love to you now. Would you say no to me again?”
She didn’t answer him but pulled his face down to hers. She was hungry for him and her fear, the long journey with Yellow Hand, seeing Devon hurt and in pain, all these things lent a fierceness to her passion, a longing and desperation.
“Sssh, love,” he calmed her and kissed her temples, and Linnet could feel her own tears as they rolled down her cheeks.
Devon understood the tears and he wished he could promise her they were useless, but he couldn’t. He joked with her, teased her, but he never let her know the danger he knew they could be in. Crazy Bear was a lazy man, and Devon doubted if he’d follow them this far, but he wasn’t sure. They shouldn’t have stopped now, at least not on the ground, in a tree maybe, but he couldn’t let her know how close to death they could be. Whether she knew it or not, Linnet was near exhaustion, and as yet he was still too weak to carry her.
“I love you, Lynna, remember that, I love you.”
“Yes, Devon, yes.” But Linnet no longer cared for words of love or for any emotion but the weight and feel of the man above her. Her hands ran down his sides, fingertips on his ribs. Her mind turned about in a whirlpool as he touched her. She wanted to scream with the pleasure, the joy of him. She arched her body to meet him, drawing him closer, nearer. She did cry out once, and he heard it and should have silenced her, but his own ecstasy was too sharp, too exquisite, to stop.
He hovered above her, looking at her, her face and hair pale in the moonlight. She smiled like a cat, dreamy, languid. He moved slightly, and her eyes flew open and her legs locked around him.
“No! Don’t leave me.” She couldn’t get enough of him. He had left her before.
“Never, love, never. I’ll not move all night if you don’t want me to. I’ll not crush you?”
She just closed her eyes and smiled that little cat smile again. “I’ll manage to bear the pain,” she whispered and soon slept, contented, her mind not even aware of the concept of danger.
Chapter Twenty-three
IT WAS VERY EARLY MORNING WHEN DEVON’S tenseness woke her. He rolled from her, his eyes searching the grayness around them as he silently drew on his pants. One look of warning was enough to keep Linnet from either moving or speaking. Devon vanished into the half-light, and she turned to her stomach, watched and listened, but hearing or seeing nothing. The sun began to lighten the day, the birds called to one another, but Linnet still saw nothing. She began to relax and felt herself falling asleep.
“So we meet again.”
Linnet opened her eyes but she didn’t look up because she knew the voice and dreaded it.
“I reckon Mac heard me comin’,” he said.
She turned her head and looked up at the brilliant, white form of Cord Macalister. She pulled her petticoats closer about her, the covering that Devon had draped over her nude body.
“You don’t have to look at me like that.” He smiled, and Linnet felt herself warming to him in spite of herself. Cord’s handsomeness had that effect on most women.
“Why are you here?” she managed to ask from her undignified position.
“I saw you floatin’ down the river, looked like you needed help.”
“Then it looked wrong,” came Devon’s quiet voice.
She hadn’t heard him approach, and from the surprise on Cord’s face, neither had he. Something strange passed across Cord’s eyes for a moment, and then he smiled lazily.
“Mac, it’s good to see you again. At least it’s better’n last time.” He made a noise that was meant to be a laugh.
Linnet couldn’t read Devon’s face, as his eyes turned hard and brittle, his wide-legged stance unforgiving.
“I brung some birds,” Cord continued. “Thought you could use ’em.”
Devon nodded his head once, and Linnet knew he thought of her more than himself.
The five birds, skewered and dripping into the fire, Linnet considered the most beautiful sight in the world. Cord grinned at her as she pulled away one leg, black, crusty skin on the outside, pink, hot, and succulent on the inside. Cord helped himself to an entire bird, but Devon remained immobile, watching Cord, wary, untrusting. Linnet could say nothing. This conflict was between two brothers, and she had no right to interfere.
Cord licked a finger, studying the half-eaten bird. “Now, Mac, this ain’t no way to greet your long-lost brother.” He watched Devon, saw he showed no sign of surprise. “You tell him?”
“Yes,” Linnet answered. “Devon, would you like something to eat?”
He ignored her.
Cord chuckled. “Seems the boy’s afraid he takes his eyes off me, I just might run off with you—again,” he added, his eyes sparkling as they left her face and flickered briefly on her body, one shoulder exposed by a torn sleeve. “What he don’t seem to know is that I come to make my peace with him. I had a long while to think on what happened and I decided women are easier to come by than brothers, and if it’s all the same to him, I’d like to start over again.”
Linnet looked at Devon, his face unreadable. She knew well how hard it was to forgive someone for what seemed unforgivable. She stood and held her hand out to him. “Walk with me?”
He stood silently, seeming reluctant to leave Cord, to let the man out of his sight. They were some distance from the little camp before he spoke. “Linnet, if you think you’re gonna talk me into—”
“I have no intention of talking to you at all,” she interrupted. “I just wanted a little privacy. I think we have nearly three years of wasted time to make up for. I thought you might like to kiss me.”
He grinned crookedly. “I dare say I might like to,” he mocked her accent. He grabbed her in his arms and twirled her around, then held her close, not noticing that he supported her entire weight, her feet completely away from the forest floor.
“I’m glad it’s past,” she said into his neck.
“You mean the bad times?”
“Yes.” Her teeth nipped his neck, her tongue savoring the smooth skin.
“Lord, Linnet!” He bent and put his arm beneath her knees and lifted her. “I never want to let you go. I never want you to be out of my sight.”
She smiled, unnaturally happy, too happy. “I never thought we could have gotten over all the bad times, did you?”
He brought his lips down on hers, his mouth open, swallowing her, pulling her from herself. Suddenly he broke away and she saw anger in his eyes. “I know what you’re tryin’ to do, Linnet Blanche Tyler.”
She looked at him in astonishment. “I don’t know what—”
“Oh yes you do, and stop tryin’ to look innocent. You’re about as innocent as…as, well, I don’t know what, but I do know what you’re doin’, and you can stop it.”
She snuggled against him, nuzzling his shoulder. “Whatever do you mean?”
He pulled her face back to look at him. “Now I know some men let their wives tell them what to do, but I’m not one of ’em, and you can start gettin’ used to the idea right now. You mighta spent your life in school, but I ain’t exactly dumb and I can see through your little tricks.”
“Devon, I have no idea what you’re speaking of. Could you possibly explain it to me?”
“You’re tryin’ to get me to talk about how mean I was to you and how you forgave me. Now you want me to forgive Cord, after all he’s done to me.”
“And what would be so wrong with that?”
“First of all, I ain’t the forgivin’ kind. When somebody does me dirt, I don’t forget it in a hurry.”
“That’s a fine thing to say! What if I felt that way about you?”
He grinned. “You were influenced by wantin’ to be in my bed.”
“Devon!” She looked shocked.
“But I ain’t got no feelin’s like that towards Cord. He wants my forgivin’ he’s gotta prove himself before I say he’s my brother.”
She looked away and found it almost im
possible to be disdainful of a man who held her in his arms high above the ground. “I think you’re totally unfair.”
“And I think you’re totally too bossy.” He nibbled her ear. “You think we made another young’un last night? I didn’t even know I was so strong as to give you a baby after only one night.”
She gave him a look of disgust. “I am finding different facets of your personality that I do not like.”
He looked puzzled for a moment. “Sometimes I think I’m glad I don’t understand everythin’ you say. You know I almost forgot how to read?”
“No!”
He grinned, since she had looked back at him. “Come on, let’s go back. I’m gettin’ hungry.”
“Then you’ll speak to Cord?”
“Maybe,” he said noncommittally. “Let’s go.” He set her down, and she followed him, watching his back, the burns still raw.
Cord watched them approach, waiting quietly for some sign from Devon. The two men stared at one another, so different yet, the same fire in both pairs of eyes.
“You seen anythin’ of Crazy Bear?” Devon asked as he sat down on the thick leaves, his back against the cool rocks, and reached for one of the birds on the skewer.
Cord relaxed. “Nothin’. Was he the one burned you?”
“No.” Devon ate the meat slowly so as not to hurt his fasting stomach. “That happened back in Spring Lick.”
Linnet knew Cord was curious and that Devon would say no more. “Devon ran inside a burning building and saved my daughter.”
Cord looked from one to the other. “Daughter, heh? I reckon that makes me an uncle.”
Linnet tried not to blush but she couldn’t help it. She reached for another piece of bird.
“Don’t eat no more of that,” Devon said.
“But I’m hungry.”
“Linnet!” His eyes narrowed at her. “You been too long without food and you can’t stuff yourself.”
She knew he was right and she wanted more to eat, but she lay back against the rock and closed her eyes. How good it was to have someone else make decisions. The insects hummed, and she fell asleep, not even waking when Devon pulled her down so her head rested on his lap. He stroked her forehead and watched her, aware of how tired she was, how she needed someone to look out for her.
“Looks to me like she’s plumb done in,” Cord said quietly. “You two been through a lot?”
Devon nodded. “Crazy Bear held me for a while, removed some skin, and then Linnet here”—he looked down at her in admiration—“come to get me. Rode for days.”
“How’d she track you?”
“Yellow Hand came with her. I don’t know how she got caught and he didn’t.”
“Yellow Hand?” Cord lifted his eyebrows and looked down at the sleeping Linnet. “It’s hard to believe that boy’d help any whites after what happened to his ma.”
Devon touched her hair, his arm across her shoulders protectively. “Linnet has a way with her.”
“That she does.” Cord grinned. “I’m gonna go outside and keep watch, just in case Crazy Bear gets any ideas.”
Devon nodded and watched the big man walk away. He touched the side of Linnet’s face, his thumb caressing her eyebrow, and thought of how good it was to be near her, that they were safe. He leaned his head back against the rock and slept.
Only the forest knew of the four Indians who stalked the two men and the woman. Only the forest saw and heard.
Chapter Twenty-four
THERE WAS NO SOUND TO WAKE OR WARN HIM. One moment he was asleep, the next the cold steel blade of a knife pressed against his throat, and Devon opened his eyes to meet Crazy Bear’s, the fierce, fanatical gleam showing his triumph at catching his prey. The knife pierced the skin of his neck, and a stream of thick, hot blood ran from the wound.
Linnet woke, feeling Devon’s body grow tight, rigid. She did not move, sensing the danger. Only her head turned slightly, and a huge lump came into her throat when she saw the blood on Devon’s neck. She felt his hand tighten on her shoulder and she was silent.
Devon spoke quietly to the Indian, words she did not understand, but Crazy Bear’s eyes burned brighter and he grabbed Linnet’s hair and pulled her away from Devon.
“No, Devon, no!” Linnet screamed as he lunged for her.
His rib deflected the knife blade that would have slipped deeply into his side. Crazy Bear hit the man who’d stabbed Devon, and the man fell to the ground. Crazy Bear did not want to lose Devon yet, he wanted the pleasure of his own method of killing his prisoners. Devon talked to the Indian, quiet and low, but the words seemed to make the dark eyes more and more ugly, more feverish. She thought she even saw the man laugh once. Their hands were bound tightly with pieces of rawhide.
“Lynna, I…”
She looked into his eyes and saw more pain there than she’d ever seen when he’d been burned. His eyes were awful, insane. “Devon, please don’t blame yourself.”
Crazy Bear’s sharp cuff to her ribs sent her gasping to her knees and she saw three men holding Devon as he struggled to protect her. The Indians pulled them from the rocks into the sunlight, and Linnet screamed at the sight of Cord, his throat deeply cut from side to side. He stared up at them, unseeing. She turned away, head down, eyes closed, as the Indians pulled her past him. Her tears came unbidden when she heard Devon whisper, “Brother,” as he passed the dead man who had been Cord Macalister.
Crazy Bear threw her into a saddle and mounted behind her, his greasy arm tight about her waist and cutting off her breath. She dared not look at Devon, fearful of seeing in his eyes knowledge of what she knew would happen to them. Please, Lord, she prayed, let it be over quickly. She thought of Miranda and Phetna, of how the child would grow up without ever seeing her mother again. And Devon, at least she’d had one more night with him. She lifted her head and looked out across the forest. Her father had always been a brave man, all the Tylers were, and she would not disgrace them now as she met her own death. Soon it would all be over, and she would join Devon in another world, a world without danger or sorrow. Her chin came up, and she held herself high. She would not disgrace her ancestors or the man she loved by any show of cowardice.
Devon watched her, and his stomach rolled over at the thought of what Crazy Bear would do to his lovely Linnet. He had tried to bargain with the man to get him to forget her and just take him, but the Indian would not. Would that he’d never seen her again rather than lead her into this. Her little chin in the air made his stomach further contract, and he looked away from her.
It was night when they reached Crazy Bear’s new camp, and instead of putting the prisoners in one of the huts, he tied them to two poles, set about a yard apart. Two men guarded them, war clubs across their brown arms, while the other men began to talk, laugh and pass several jugs of homebrewed whiskey. Only once did Linnet try to talk to Devon, and the hurt in his voice when he answered made her stop any other words.
They stood all night, while the women poked both of them with sharp little sticks and the men sat and watched.
“Will it be in the morning?” Linnet whispered, her voice ragged as she breathed deeply, trying to calm herself against the hundreds of little painful places on her body.
“Yes,” he said, his voice very low. “Lynna, I…I want to tell you that…”
She twisted against the bindings, trying to see him. “Please don’t say anything. I knew what might happen when I left Spring Lick.”
He looked ahead to the trees and prayed to the gods of his great-grandfather. He prayed for strength to endure, not the pain but the loss of Linnet, the ability to endure the pain she would feel.
A shot echoing through the dense woods brought every head up. Devon looked and saw a pattern of shadows where it should not be. There was something familiar about the shape, the way the long, thin shadow, the arm, moved slowly, languidly. He blinked his blurry eyes. No! It couldn’t be!
The four Indian men were on their feet, their bows and arrows
, their hand weapons a poor defense against the Kentucky long rifles.
“What is it?” Linnet asked, and Crazy Bear’s eyes silenced her.
Another shot sounded, and one of the renegades went down, a gaping hole in his chest. Linnet closed her eyes, trying to bury her face in her neck, anything to block out the horror that was beginning to happen around her. She didn’t see Crazy Bear raise his arm with the sharp steel axe as he aimed at Devon’s head. Nor did she see the man who attacked him with a pitchfork.
Devon twisted toward her. “Linnet! Look! Look up!” he called.
There was noise all around them, screams, people yelling, and she didn’t want to look.
“Linnet!”
His commands brought her head up in time to see Agnes Emerson lean into the recoil of a six-foot rifle. In wonder, Linnet looked all around her. They were all there! All of Sweetbriar was swarming over the Indian camp—Esther and Doll, Wilma and Floyd, Lyttle and Agnes, Phetna, Gaylon, Corinne, Yellow Hand with them, and others she didn’t know. She began to cry, great wrenching sobs that tore through her. Sweetbriar! Beautiful, wonderful Sweetbriar! They had come when she most needed them, when they most needed their help.
“You all right?” Wilma Tucker cut Linnet’s bindings.
Linnet couldn’t talk, she could only cry, and Wilma cheerfully pulled her friend into her arms.
“What we gonna do with ’em?” Agnes’ voice boomed.
Linnet looked up from Wilma’s shoulder to see a blur that was Devon as he lifted her from the ground. She felt his tears on her neck as he held her, and she hugged him tightly, trying to take some of the trembling from him. “I’m all right, Devon, please, I’m all right.”
“Looks like you two quit feudin’, at least for a time.”
Linnet turned toward the unmistakable voice of Doll as he stood by Gaylon. Devon lifted his head, and his grip on Linnet loosened. She smiled at him, then released him and ran to clutch Doll, her exuberance nearly knocking him from his feet. The laughter began to come as everyone hugged everyone else.
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