Forbidden Caress

by Colleen French

  "What do you mean? Henry is no murderer. What are you talking about?" Tears threatened to spill from her dark eyes.

  "He killed the servant boy the day he left you. He kicked him from the wagon to save his own skin. The boy wanted to go back for you."

  "Liar! Liar!" she screamed, sinking to the floor.

  Tipaakke released her arm, letting her slump to the floor. Turning, he began to pace the floor. What was wrong with him? Why had he gotten so angry with her? Why had he let her goad him to the point of making threats? This was so unlike him. Only this women could make him so irrational. He listened to her sob, crouched on the floor near the bed. He had never heard her weep like this. Was the thought of caring his child so unbearable? He thought she loved him. He thought she was going to surprise him with the news of the child. Among his own people, the coming of a child meant great rejoicing. The Delawares had very small families so each child was a precious gift from the Heavenly Father. "Katelyn," Tipaakke called quietly. "Katelyn."

  "I feel so stupid! You make me feel so stupid!" She sniffed, trying to hold back the tears. She was so embarrassed. Why did she act like this with him? Why did he make her so crazy?

  "I do not mean to make you feel that way." He came to her hesitantly. "I do not think you're stupid."

  "I never thought about it." She raised a hand and let it drop. "I never honestly thought about it." She wiped her running nose with her sleeve. "I guess I didn't want to think about it." She bowed her head. She couldn't look at him.

  "Sometimes we push from our minds the things we fear most." Why, he asked himself, why does she not want my child? There was a dull ache in his throat. He had been so happy since he'd realized she carried his child. He missed his own son dearly and rejoiced at the thought of a new babe in his arms.

  "I can't have a baby," Katelyn murmured into her hands. "I just can't."

  "Why not? Women have babies everyday. Having a baby is good in our village. Our women do not suffer like your white women. We have herbs to kill the pain. It is a time of happiness in the wigwam when a babe comes into our world."

  "It's a sin." She looked up at him. "I'm not married." She shook her head. "I'd be better dead."

  Tipaakke got down on his knees. "Don't say what you do not wish. Manito may hear you and bring your wish true." He brushed damp hair off her forehead. "I can marry you if that's what you wish. My father will marry us and I will even take you to my friends up north. The Quakers can marry us in your way." He waited for an answer. Would she refuse him?

  Her eyes widened. "You would do that?" She choked back another sob.

  He nodded having a seat on the floor in front of her. "Give me your hands," he told her.

  Cautiously, she held out her hands. Her anger had passed and now she felt afraid and alone. He was willing to marry her. That surprised and pleased her. But it hurt that he still didn't love her.

  Holding her clammy hands in his, Tipaakke peered into her face. Her golden brown eyes were sad ones. If only he could wipe that sadness away. "We can marry and live in the village with my family. They will treat you well; you've earned that right by staying with me here. Now that my sight has been returned to me, I can care for you and our child. It would be a good life." He stroked her palms. "Your people, they would not accept you now."

  Katelyn laughed a funny little laugh. "No, you're right, they wouldn't. I have no choice, do I?" A sad smile formed on her lips.

  "Yes, you do have a choice. You do not have to marry me. It makes no difference to me," he lied.

  "It's not that I don't want to marry you." Her dark eyes pleaded with his. "It's just that two married people should . . . if only you would . . . " her voice trailed into nothingness.

  Tipaakke stared at her intently with confusion. What was the girl talking about now. "If I would what?" He got up, pulling her with him.

  Katelyn shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Never mind, it's not important." She shook her head, avoiding eye contact with him.

  "It is important. What do you speak of?"

  "I can't say it. It's not something you ask someone to say, Fox." She walked slowly to the door.

  He followed on her heels. "What? You have to tell me. I'm no Shaman. I have no magical powers. I cannot read the mind of another." He reached out imploringly. "Tell me."

  "No." She shook her head, pulling her beaver hat over her head and tucking her braids beneath. "It really doesn't matter." She slipped her rabbit cloak off the peg and swung it over her shoulders. "I will marry you and I will have your baby." There was no joy in her voice, only resignation. Up until this moment she had still thought there was hope. She had still prayed he would come to love her.

  "You say that as if I sent you to your death." He followed her. "Where are you going? Don't run away from me, Katelyn."

  "I need to go for a walk —alone, please." She looked back at him. "Don't you understand how difficult this is for me?" Without another word, she turned to the door.

  Tipaakke listened to Katelyn close the door softly behind her. I should have gone, he thought. He picked up his bag of tools from the table and went to sit at the hearth where a small fire burned. Work always helped when he had thinking to do. He dumped the instruments out on the floor and picked up the half-completed axehead. With the chipping stone, he began the long and tedious process.

  Now what do I do, he asked himself, chipping with even strokes. She carries my child. I can't let her go. She's mine. It was meant to be. He ran his fingers over the axehead, feeling the tiny nicks. I don't want to force her to marry me, but maybe marriage is best. Maybe she will come to love me after the child is born. Where have I failed, he asked himself. I've given her gifts. I've been respectful of the white man's way of life. I love her; I'm good to her. I listen to her ranting and raving; I ignore her mistakes. I certainly please her on the sleeping mat. He stared at the burning embers. Never would he understand the mind of the female creature.

  Katelyn hurried along the path, her arms crossed and pressed tightly against her stomach. "I can't believe it," she muttered over and over again. "I can't believe I'm going to have a baby." She continued along the path until she came to mud and then stepped off into the grass. This was the second time this week that it had snowed at night but melted during the day. The spring that she had thought was so far away was almost upon her. It was time to make a decision.

  Her mind churned as she rounded the bend near the stream. Fox is right, I can't go back to Henry. He would never take me if I wanted him to. So, I either have to go far away from here and start a new life with my child, or I can stay with Fox and accept what happiness I have.

  Staring at her reflection in the stream, Katelyn couldn't resist a smile. Who would ever recognize her now? She laughed at the woman who laughed back, dressed in furs, tanned by the winter sun. The Katelyn Locke she'd once known was gone. This was not the woman who left England. This woman spoke in halting Lenni Lenape, wrestled with her brave on his mat, and thought like a Lenni Lenape esquawa.

  She turned from the stream and and continued along the deer path, noting fresh tracks. Just let the Lenni Lenape in you do the thinking, she told herself. That hysterical woman in the cabin was the old Katelyn. Start thinking like a Delaware squaw and you'll know what's right, an inner voice commanded.

  "I will marry him," she whispered with an even nod. "I will marry him," she repeated a little louder. I will marry him and have his child and I will not give up hope. Someday he might still come to love me. I must leave it in the hands of the creator. She stepped off the path and into the forest, heading in the direction of the beaver dam. Suddenly, her feet felt lighter.

  I will give Fox a son he can be proud of, she told herself, or maybe a daughter. She remembered that Won had said the Lenni Lenape treasured their girls as much as their boys. They were both gifts from heaven. Katelyn knew she would never have to cower like her mother when she had admitted to her husband that she'd given birth to a worthless girl child. Now light
hearted, Katelyn leaped over a rock and started to run, spotting the dam just ahead.

  Chester Rummond released the reins on his mule and ducked beneath a leaning scrub pine. Grinning, he reached beneath his hide cloak and pulled out a hunk of tobacco. Taking a bite, he tucked it beneath the hide again. He chuckled as he worked up the spit in his mouth to get the full flavor of the fresh chew. "What do ya think we got here?" He turned to his two partners behind him.

  Morgy tugged at his bottom lip speculatively. "Think we got us a fresh bit of Injun girl, that's what I think." He ran his fingers through his long greasy hair, smacking his lips soundly. "Real fresh."

  The third partner, Kaiser, just stared longingly through the bushes. No one expected Kaiser to answer. He never said anything.

  Chester leaned on his musket, flicking his tongue out to catch a long drool of tobacco spittle. "What's say we have a look-see, gen'leman." He tugged on the leather reins, giving his mule a vicious kick when she didn't move fast enough.

  The trapper led the mule along the woodsline of the meadow, his partners close behind. Twice they stopped to watch the squaw who'd almost reached the running stream. Tying the jenny's reins to a fallen log, Chester left her behind, signaling the others to follow. Together, the three skirted the meadow until they reached the stream just beyond the beaver dam. Crouching low, Chester pointed to the Indian woman who'd perched herself on the steep bank of the stream. "What ya think she'd be doin' out here, brother?" He eyed Morgy thoughtfully.

  "Don't really make much matter, do it?" Morgy grinned bearing blackened teeth. "We won't be needin' her long." He elbowed Kaiser kiddingly, sending the man into a fit of snickers.

  "Hush!" Chester warned. "Ya know these Injun's, she'll be off like a wilier wist, disappearin' inta the air."

  "Can't see her face," Morgy chimed in, leaning through the bushes. "Wish she'd turn around so's we could get a look-see."

  "Fartin' beans, Morgy! What do you care? I seen you bed women uglier than horses's arse's! Don't be tellin' me you got any particulars."

  Kaiser fell into another fit of snickers, his whole chest heaving up and down.

  Chester leaned to knock him on the head. "I told you to keep your trap shut. Ya scare her off and ya'll not get a taste of a woman's thighs 'til early summer. Ya understandin' what I'm tellin' ya, Kaiser?"

  Kaiser bobbed his head up and down, throwing up a hand to promise he'd be quiet. The wide smirk on his face told the men he was as anxious for a bit of sport as they were.

  Chester scratched his hairy chin, watching the girl toss pebbles into the churning water. "Come to think of it, gen'leman, we might just tie her onto that old jenny-mule and carry her with us a few days. That way, we'd get us our fill." He hawked up a good gob of spit and let it fly. Rubbing his sweaty palms together, he slipped off his cloak and let it slip to the ground. Giving the other two directions, he waited until they slipped off, then dropped down on all fours, crawling towards the squaw. Damnation! he thought. What a man don't have to go through these days to cool his boiling blood!

  Tipaakke ran his fingers over the axehead and sent it hurling through the air. He'd worked two weeks on it and now he'd just taken a big chip out of it. It was worthless to him. He'd have to start all over again with a fresh stone. He got to his feet and began to pace the floor.

  What was wrong with Katelyn? What was wrong with him? Why couldn't she love him? She just wasn't being sensible about this. He pounded his fist in the palm of his hand. He wanted her, and he would have her. She'd given him a joy in his life he hadn't known since his wife and son had died. Tipaakke walked to the far wall and jerked his fox cloak off the peg. It was time this was settled; he couldn't stand the unrest. He loved her and she was going to marry him and have his child. Maybe in time she would come to love him. He would just have to take that chance.

  Slamming the cabin door, Tipaakke started down the path. Shading his eyes, he stared up at the breathtakingly blue sky. Never again would he take for granted those pale blues and fluffy whites. He smiled to himself. The Creator had been very good to him. He had returned his sight. Now Tipaakke knew it was time he took control of his own life; it was time he made amends with the woman he loved.

  Tipaakke quickened his pace, keeping his moccasinned feet on the hardened dirt path. Running faster, he threw back his head, letting the wind whip through his hair. He took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh near-spring air. It had been a long time since he'd felt like running.

  Katelyn rested her chin on her knees, tossing small, round pebbles into the water below. Now that she'd made her decision, she felt so much better. She would make the best of the life she'd been handed and she'd try to make Tipaakke happy. She ran her palm over her slightly rounded stomach; in a few moons, she would have two people to call her own. She hoped Hawk returned soon. She wanted to get back to the village with them and be married as soon as possible. She wanted to get on with the new life she'd just chosen.

  Abruptly, Katelyn froze, the hair on the back of her neck bristling. She took a deep, unsteady breath. Someone was behind her and it wasn't Fox. She knew his movements, his earthy scent by heart. No, this was an intruder. Her blood turned to ice as it raced to pump her heart faster. Steadying herself on the steep bank, she slid her hand down her leg until it touched the hilt of her stone knife. She whispered a silent prayer as her fingers closed over the lethal weapon.

  Concentrating, Katelyn made her assessment of the situation. A man . . . a man crawling. She caught his scent in the breeze. It was a white man, an unbathed white man who reeked of horseflesh, rotting food, and body odor. Sliding the knife from its leather sheath, she made a decision. Surprise was an element she needed on her side.

  Letting out a high-pitched shriek, Katelyn leaped into the air, spinning to face the man before her feet touched the muddy bank. In horror, she caught sight of a second and third man coming at her as well.

  Chester gave a startled yelp and sprang to his feet. His hand slid to the flintlock on his belt and he eased it out. He signaled to the others to stay back. "Hey there, Missy. No need to fear me." He grinned, baring tobacco-stained teeth. "I'm yur friend. I ain't gonna hurt ya." He slid a foot forward.

  Katelyn crouched in the attack position just as Tipaakke had taught her. Her mind raced half in English, half in Algonquian as her primal instincts kicked in full force. Narrowing her eyes, Katelyn shifted her weight, checking to be sure she was balanced. Her life lay before her and she wanted it. She wanted her child. She wanted a life with Tipaakke.

  "Come on, Missy." Chester reached out to beckon her with one dry, cracked hand. "You understand English?"

  She growled deep in her throat.

  "Feisty wench, ain't ya?" He straightened up. "Me and the boys, we like 'em feisty." She was half his size. The way he figured it, he could overpower her himself, and that way he'd get the first bite. Spitting a long stream of brown juice, he took another step closer. "Tell ya what squaw, you throw down that there knife and come see Uncle Chester, and I'll give you something pretty. You like bangles, don't ya?"

  Katelyn's mind was in a turmoil. Even if she managed to kill the big one, how would she defend herself against the others? Take one at a time, then worry about the next, the Algonquian in her instructed.

  Chester slid his flintlock into his belt and untied a filthy pouch. "See the pretties, girlie?" He pulled a necklace of shiny stones from the rotting pouch. "Wanna touch 'em?" He extended his hand, smiling.

  Katelyn struggled to breath. The stench from the man was almost unbearable. If he took another step, she'd vomit in sheer disgust. But slowly, she lowered her knife, smiling back at him. She could see the other men hedging out of the corner of her eye. Just play the stupid Indian, she told herself. Give them what they expect. Then give them the unexpected!

  "That's a good, girlie. Come see Uncle Chester." He threw a grin over his shoulder at his partners. "I'm gonna show you something else real nice, too." He patted the bulge between his legs. "It's something
yer gonna like real well. All the ladies do." He drew the necklace back a bit. "Come on . . . that's right. Just a little further, squaw."

  Katelyn took another step forward. He still doesn't realize I'm white, she thought. No matter. It would make no difference to them at this point. She took another step, reaching for the necklace, keeping the smile pasted on her face.

  The trapper reached out his other hand. He could feel his breeches straining in anticipation. Boy, I'm gonna have her and have her good, he thought as he caught scent of her freshly bathed skin. Might even have a second go-round after the others have finished. In an instant, his hand jerked out to catch her around the waist, but Katelyn was ready.

  Screeching at the top of her lungs, she lunged forward with the knife, catching him in the cheek, and laying him open.

  "Little bitch," Chester snarled, knocking her to the ground with a balled fist. "Ya want it rough, do you?" He ran his palm across his cheek, smearing blood. "Well, me and the boys, we're gonna give it to ya rough."

  Katelyn scrambled to get up from the ground, but the trapper was too fast. In an instant he was on her, pounding her wrist. "Let go of the knife," he warned, his reeking breath hot on her cheek. From behind, she could hear the voices of others, cheering their friend on.

  Katelyn gritted her teeth against the mind-numbing pain. In another moment, he'll break my arm, she thought. He's too big to fight like this, I'll have to outsmart him. Then I'll deal with the others.

  Suddenly, the struggling squaw beneath Chester went limp. "That's it, girlie," he crooned, yanking the knife from her fingers and tossing it into the grass. "We're glad yer gonna see it our way." He sat up to get a better look at his captive, Kaiser and Morgy gathering around anxiously. "Just right for the pickin'," he muttered, running a finger along her cheek bone.

  "Purty thing, ain't she?" Morgy peered over Chester's shoulder. "Got spirit, too, ain't she?" He elbowed Kaiser. "That's the way I like 'em." He tapped Chester on the shoulder. "Would ya be willin' to sell your first rights to her, old partner? Damn! If I'd known she was this fetchin', I'd have wrestled her down myself!"