“Oh Sam, I could stay here forever, but I want to get back to the others—to our family.”
Our family. He liked the sound of that. Wait. She had never told him where the land was. “Catherine, where is the acreage?”
Her eyes twinkling, Catherine starting giggling. Then she was laughing. Then she was clapping her hands and twirling in a circle. What had gotten into her? She seemed about to burst with glee. Finally, she stopped laughing long enough to say, “Cumberland Falls on the Cumberland River, south of Fort Harrod.”
The shock of her revelation hit him full force. “Here?” he asked, incredulous. “Right here?”
“Yes, yes, Sam, right here. The deed described the land and location. I asked Lucky to suggest this location to you for our honeymoon. He knew right where it was and enjoyed sharing my little secret. He’d been here to see the falls. He told me it was beautiful, but I had no idea it was this stunning.”
Little secret. Ha! The secret was about as big as they got. He still couldn’t believe it. He loved this special place. Even before she had revealed the location of the land, he had felt at home here and dreaded having to leave. And she was telling him it was theirs. He stared wordlessly at her, his heart pounding.
“I’m speechless,” was all he could think to say.
“I have another confession,” she said almost timidly, as she sat down next to the fire, tucking her legs under her. “Promise you won’t be mad?”
Sam nodded. This was getting out of hand. Wondering what was coming, he just sat down next to her and studied her twinkling eyes, waiting. What could she possibly have left to tell him?
“I told you before, when we talked about my dagger’s crest that my family was from the nobility. Well…I have my own inheritance of land and a sizable estate and fortune back in England. My grandfather left his colonial properties, including a Virginia tobacco plantation, to his daughter, my mother. My brother will inherit the plantation from her. But my grandfather left his English estate, Brympton, to me. It’s considered one of the finest country estates in England. After the Revolution, I went there several times with him. It’s managed by a family that has been with my relations for generations.”
“Where is it?” Sam asked.
“A few hours from London. It’s very beautiful. And it’s quite productive, producing a handsome income each year.”
She almost seemed embarrassed saying it. She stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something.
This time Sam could only laugh. It started bubbling in his belly and spread to his chest. Most of all, his heart laughed. Clutching his stomach muscles, he was soon laying on his back, his eyes crying from chuckling so hard. It felt marvelous. It had been far too long since he’d experienced such unrestrained joy. Soon, he managed to stifle his laughter and just snicker, and occasionally snort, as he continued to shake his head in wonder. “If you have any more confessions, please keep them to yourself. I can’t handle any more good news this day.”
“No, that’s all there is.” She smiled almost coquettishly. “For now.”
“For now?”
She just smiled mysteriously.
“Do the others know any of this?” he asked as he sat up.
“No, I wanted to be sure the man I married was marrying me for love, so I told no one. I married once, per my father’s directive, for money and position in society, not love. I was never going to let that happen again. And, as you helped me realize, I wanted to determine my destiny—not let my wealth or my status determine it for me. I’m sorry all this comes as such a shock to you.”
“I believe I can force myself to become accustomed to it eventually,” he said, grinning, but wanting to laugh again. “As long as you don’t expect me to dress or behave like a dandy.”
“If I’d wanted a fop, I would have gone back to Boston. There are plenty of peacocks there. Sam, you’re the perfect man for me. I don’t want any of this to change you even a little bit. I married you because of your good heart and your strength. I knew I could trust you with sharing my fortune. I just hope it will make your life easier from now on—provide you and the others with opportunities you wouldn’t have had otherwise and fewer struggles.”
“Your trust means everything to me,” Sam said.
“Do we need to discuss any of this further?” she asked.
“For now, I just need to get breakfast finished so we can be on our very merry way.” He started to laugh again, but managed to stop himself. It was all so much to take in. When he woke that morning, he didn’t think he could be any happier, but Catherine’s revelations had done just that. Now their future was secure. He no longer had to worry that he would not be able to provide a comfortable life for her. The kind of life she deserved. And, although, life in Kentucky would undoubtedly force the two of them to face tremendous challenges, it was a relief to know poverty would not be among them. And, they could now also ensure a bright future for Little John and could help Stephen and Jane do so for their girls. And, if Catherine agreed, he wanted to help Kelly too. Maybe send the precocious young woman to a good school. She deserved a better start in life than she had received so far.
Catherine stood, but for the moment seemed in no hurry to dress on this warm morning. Perhaps she found leaving as difficult as he did. She peeled off her sheer nightdress and walked knee deep into the river, shivering as the water hit her bare skin.
“You’re making it difficult to concentrate on cleaning these fish,” he called to her, admiring the perfect shape of her backside.
Laughing, she said, “I’ll take care of that.” She slid down into the water until she was submerged.
When her head came back up, he asked, “Are you sure you should be swimming with your shoulder so recently healed?”
“It will help work out the stiffness,” she yelled back. “And give me a chance to bathe.”
He watched as she swam gracefully to the middle of the river before stopping and turning to glide on her back. Her flat stomach and long legs floated to the water’s surface. The soft mounds of her breasts revealed themselves as she titled her head and hair back into the water. She looked like a mystical ghost, all white, her skin shimmering on the river’s sun kissed sparkling surface. The ghost bride of Cumberland Falls. Sam grinned. A rich ghost.
He had no idea she was such an excellent swimmer. Satisfied that she was not going to drown, he forced himself to turn his eyes away and take the fish to the frying pan. She said she was starving so he tried to concentrate on the task of preparing their food, adding more wood to the fire and starting coffee to brew. He dipped the fish in the salted cornmeal and added the filets to the pan, now sizzling with melted fat. Within a few moments, the savory aroma of the fried trout made his stomach growl.
They had brought an extra horse loaded with enough supplies for a few weeks. He wished that they could stay longer, but Catherine was right. Little John needed them. Besides, he couldn’t wait for them to be together as a family.
He poured himself some coffee, savoring the rich fragrance and warmth in his hands. Catherine would need the hot fresh brew too after being in the cool water. He poured her a cup and strode back to the river’s edge.
Sam scanned the surface of the river, not finding her. She was gone.
CHAPTER 37
He held his breath, waiting for her to surface. When she didn’t, his inner alarm sounded and dread quickly rose in his chest. The normally pleasant sounds of the gushing waterfall battered against his mind as he tried to think. He tried to calm himself and slow his thundering heart. Perhaps she was just relieving herself in the woods.
But what if she wasn’t?
A cold knot formed in his stomach and a wave of apprehension swept through him. “Catherine, where are you?” he shouted as loud as he could. He heard nothing in response and tried again. Then again. And again. “If this is a prank, I’m not amused,” he tried.
He hurried back to the cook fire, threw the coffee down, yanked the fish pan off
the fire, and grabbed his rifle. He quickly scanned the hills around them but spotted nothing unusual. He tried to listen for strange noises, but the falls covered any sounds he might have heard.
Then his mind raced. She could be in the water, below the surface, her legs cramping or trapped by something. Why hadn’t he thought of that before now? Why hadn’t he watched her more carefully?
Sam tossed his rifle to the riverbank, tore off his boots and hunting shirt, and dove into the water. The swift moving stream was nearly clear to his wide opened eyes. He swam under the surface for as long as his breath allowed, finding nothing. His chest near bursting, he came up for air about midway across the river. As he gasped for air, he quickly surveyed the area again, spitting water. Nothing.
He dove down again and swam deeper, closer to the bottom, searching, seeking some sign of her, his heart racing wildly. Soon his lungs begged him to stop. He had to get air. Just a gulp or two and then he’d come back down.
His head sprung above the water’s surface, his chest heaving. As he took a couple of quick breaths, a terrifying realization hit him. Indians. Maybe she was taken. He’d find her, no matter how long it took. But what if she was still under water? Torn between continuing his search under water or starting to hunt for her in the forest, he shouted her name once more.
“Catherine!”
He had to find her! He turned around to check the opposite shore once more.
Uninhibited, she stood naked, watching him from the opposite riverbank. “Enjoying your swim?” she yelled out.
“For mercy’s sake! You gave me a terrible fright. Where the bloody hell were you?” he demanded, treading water.
“Swimming underwater. I’m sorry if I scared you. I didn’t realize how long I was under.”
“Damn it. Are you some kind of mermaid?” Or ghost, he thought again.
“My brother and I used to have contests back in Boston’s Bay to see who could stay under the longest. I always won.”
He swam across the river to her and came out of the water scowling. He stomped forward, stopping in front of her. “Do you realize you just scared the hell out of me—and I didn’t like it. Not one bit.” He stood next to her, hands on his hips, water as well as aggravation dripping from him.
Catherine just smiled at him, her eyes asking forgiveness, as she untied her braid and ran her fingers through the long waves, black as a starless night. “I’m sorry I scared you Sam. Perhaps you should find a way to punish me,” she teased.
He folded his arms across his chest. “Your punishment will be far more severe this time.”
She giggled and then sat down on a nearby boulder and leisurely stretched out her long pale legs.
The sight was more than Sam could tolerate. He laid his knife nearby, slid off his buckskin breeches and laid them beneath her bottom. Then he removed his leggings, wrung them out, folded them into a miniature pillow, and placed it under her head.
He silently thanked God that she was all right, and quickly forgot his irritation with her.
“Do you realize what a beauty you are?” he asked, sitting down beside her.
He thought his own body must look unpleasant to her, despite his lean muscular build, because he bore a multitude of ugly battle scars.
“You’re the fine-looking one. Soon after we arrived in Boonesborough, I said you reminded me of a knight clad in buckskins. I thought you looked powerful, proud, and fiercely handsome. Now you’re my handsome knight.”
“How you can find anything pleasing to your eye, my lady, among all my scars I’ll never know.” He lowered himself next to her and rested his head on one elbow.
She reached up to gently rub her fingers across a scar on his left shoulder.
The gentleness of her tender touch filled him with a sense of calm peace. He reveled in the feeling—absent in his life for so long.
She found another scar across his abdomen. “They’re beautiful in way—a silent testimony to your courage.”
He exhaled a long sigh. “Sometimes I’m not courageous at all. Do you know how much it frightened me when he shot you? I thought you were dying. When your blood was flowing out into my hands, it felt like my blood was flowing out too. That’s when I knew I loved you.”
Her eyes, suddenly troubled, caught and held his. “But just before I was shot, you turned and took a step away from me.”
“My mind and heart were still at war with each other. A small, but very vocal, part of my mind kept denying that you really could love me. Another part feared that I would lose you too. But my heart and body wanted you more than anything.” He brushed the tip of his finger slowly across her lips. “Oh Catherine, how close I came to losing you.”
“But you didn’t lose me. I’m here…and so are you,” she said gently. “And I will love you Sam, forever, and ever, and ever.”
A golden wave seemed to spread over them like a warm mantle, wrapping them together into one soul.
“And I will love you endlessly and always.” He cradled her head in his hand and kissed her forehead gently and then her mouth. The pleasure of kissing her was pure and powerful. He feathered his lips slowly across her face. Closing his eyes, he savored the soft freshness of her skin. His lips seemed to move on their own, down her neck before kissing the cold skin along the middle of her voluptuous chest.
Slowly, he relished the feel and taste of her wet body until she could barely stay still in his arms. But he would make her wait a few moments longer. She tasted sweet on his lips, like a delectable cake.
Their water-cooled bodies only seemed to magnify the warmth of their passion. Soon, the morning sun felt like high noon on his wet back. The warmth of the rock beneath them sent even more heat down his legs. He felt a firestorm building within him as he stoked the flames of her desire.
It was time to put out the fire raging within them, but seeing him so alive made it almost too extraordinary to quench. His fervor nearly made sparks fly from his muscled body.
Catherine knew he would keep kissing her, embracing her, fondling her, until he could no longer hold himself back.
He kissed the inside of one of her palms, before nibbling on the sensitive skin inside her elbow. Then his tongue traced a trail across her shoulder and down to the pinnacle of her moist breast. She was nearly exploding with desire.
She arched into the curve of his body. He pulled her against him with tantalizing possessiveness.
His strong hands caressed the planes of her back and hips. Then he lightened his touch to just his fingertips. She quivered under his gentle stroking, every inch of her skin tingling with pleasure from his whispered touch. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, reveling in the sensation of his hands wandering lovingly over her.
The scent of his fresh water washed body made her senses swirl. Like the rush of the nearby waterfall pounding into the river, a spurt of hungry desire for him cascaded through her.
She raised up and pushed him to his back before she climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. It was an instinctive act of possession. She was all his and he was all hers.
Using her fingers, she slowly massaged his shoulders. She observed him through lowered lashes as her fingers slid over his smooth skin. He was so handsome, so magnificent, so hers! She smiled, joyful at the thought, and used her thumbs to knead the muscles of his broad chest. Then with two fingertips, she drew a perfect heart around his heart.
He reached up and did the same to her.
He loved her!
In that moment, she felt a sunrise in her heart.
He opened his eyes to gaze at this strikingly beautiful woman who was his wife. He still could not believe his great fortune. It had nothing to do with her fortune. She was his treasure.
Her long dark hair fell in wet strands across her breasts, nearly reaching to her trim waist. Sam reached up and pushed her hair behind her back, revealing the exquisite mounds completely. She was a glowing image of beauty, desire, and love. The sheer wonder of the sight of her
and the growing intensity of the passion within him filled his heart with awe.
Every time he joined with her, she filled empty places in his soul and made more old pains ebb away—banished forever—to be replaced with new memories. And these memories would linger long after their moments of heated passion, surrounding them in the comforting certainty of their love.
“I love you beyond any measure,” she whispered as her head fell down and she buried her face against his neck.
Then, as he held her close, he said, “And I love you my treasure. To paraphrase that fine Scots poet, Robert Burns, ‘Of all the directions the wind can blow, I dearly like the west, for there the bonnie lassie lives, the lassie I love best.’”
“Aye!” she said.
As their souls collided, he decided the wilderness really was the land of tomorrow.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Called a “deft new writer of intelligent romantic fiction,” award-winning historical romance author Dorothy Wiley enjoys writing big, action-packed romantic adventures set in the American wilderness when it was still a frontier. In her exciting American Wilderness Series Romances, Wiley breaches the walls of time, bringing readers to a young America, where romance and danger are as powerful as the wilderness.
Readers describe Wiley’s writing as fresh, unblinkingly gritty, and highly enjoyable with well-portrayed characters. Like her compelling heroes, who from the outset make it clear they will not fail despite the adversities they face, this author is likewise destined for success. In 2014, her first romance novel, Wilderness Trail of Love, was a Central Florida Romance Writers of America Touch of Magic Finalist and her second book, New Frontier of Love, was selected as an Amazon Breakthrough Novel Quarterfinalist.
Wiley grew up in southern California and found her own romantic hero in Austin, Texas, where she received a Bachelor of Journalism degree, with Honors, from The University of Texas. After a distinguished 35-year corporate career in marketing and public relations, she is living her dream—writing historical romances—and residing in central Texas with her husband (the same wonderful guy) on their beautiful cattle ranch. Yes, dreams really can come true!
New Frontier of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 2) Page 28