LeClerc 03 - Wild Savage Heart

by Pamela K Forrest

  “You have a lovely home,” Molly said as she sat on the edge of the bed to remove her shoes.

  “Why, thank you, dear.“Mrs. Cobb helped Molly to remove her outer clothing. “Mr. Cobb has provided well for me. He has even brought in a necessary chair.” She pointed to a large, square chair in the far corner of the room. “It is such a pleasure not to have to visit the outside convenience in the winter time. I’m afraid I am in danger of being spoiled!”

  Molly was more interested in the bed than in the chair as she stretched out and sighed with pleasure. The rope bed with its straw-filled mattress felt heavenly after her nights on the hard ground. She gave a brief thought to Hawk and wondered what he was doing, then she fell into a deep sleep.

  Molly was awakened by the lilting Irish voice of a young girl. Lilliann was an indentured servant, who said she had only a few months left and then she’d be free. She was cheerful and good-natured as she assisted Molly.

  The visit was over too quickly for Molly. Mr. Cobb, busy with the last of the harvesting, had not returned for the noon meal. She enjoyed being around the gracious Mrs. Cobb and she prayed that Linsey would be as welcoming.

  Mrs. Cobb invited them to stay for several days but Hawk insisted that they leave when the meal was finished. He explained that he wanted to travel the fifteen miles to Jonesborough before dark.

  “Would you like to sleep in a bed tonight?” Hawk asked as they rode toward Jonesborough.

  “I didn’t realize how much I missed a bed until this afternoon,” Molly replied. “I think I could have slept for a week!”

  “We don’t have time for a week, but there is a way station outside of Jonesborough. We’ll get a room for tonight and you can sleep late in the morning while I go into town and try to locate John.” He had explained to her earlier that he hoped John’s father would agree to marry them.

  Heaven must be to sleep in a real bed the night before your wedding, Molly decided, glad she didn’t have to confess which prospect filled her with more anticipation.

  “We don’t ‘llow Injuns or their —”

  “Don’t say it.” Hawk’s voice was made more threatening by its very softness.

  The innkeeper wisely swallowed back the rest of his comment and squirmed beneath Hawk’s penetrating stare. His eyes drifted to the rifle held confidently over Hawk’s arm.

  “As I was saying, I need a room for the lady, for the night.”

  “We don’t take Injuns,” the man insisted, in spite of his fear.

  “I require only one room. It will be for the lady.” Hawk bit back the need to wrap his hands around the man’s throat and squeeze. It was because he had feared this exact type of reaction that he had insisted that Molly stay outside with the horses.

  “She’ll hafta share. I only got three rooms and they’re filled.”

  “She can share … with another lady.” The man motioned toward two ladies sitting across the room and Hawk nodded approval. It wasn’t unusual for strangers to share sleeping quarters, in fact he would have been surprised had she had a room to herself. But he wanted to be assured that the other women were ladies of quality, not river trash looking to make money with their bodies or by going through someone else’s things.

  “I’ll bring her inside in a minute,” Hawk stated in the same quiet voice. “But first you can give me directions to the Reverend Childers.”

  “What you be wantin’ with him? Reverend Childers is a good man who won’t accept any trail trash Injun.”

  Hawk’s level stare forced the man into silence. “His direction?”

  Stumbling in his haste, the innkeeper gave Hawk detailed instructions for finding the Childerses’ residence.

  “I will be back for Mrs. Royce in the morning,” Hawk informed the man. “I might even stop in later this evening to assure myself that she is all right. Believe me when I tell you that you will pray for death before I’m finished with you if she should suffer any type of indignity caused by your prejudices against my people.”

  “Just make sure people see you leave. I’d have no business left if they thought I was rentin’ to an Injun.”

  Hawk spent the night in the woods at the back of the inn within sight and sound of Molly’s window. He was relieved when the residents of the inn settled down for the night, making it easier for him to hear any noise from the only room that held his interest.

  He thought of his reception at various hotels in the larger cities back east. There had been natural curiosity but he was welcomed as freely as the next man. His Indian heritage had been a thing of interest to most people rather than a thing of repugnance.

  The further they traveled into the wilderness, the more lacking the hospitality. It was easy for him to decide to avoid as many towns as possible. Travel would be difficult enough for Molly in her delicate condition, she didn’t need proof that her decision to marry him had been a mistake.

  Hawk sat on the ground and leaned back against a tree. He, far better than Molly, knew that the marriage was a mistake that shouldn’t happen. He knew he could take her to Shawnee Town and leave her with Linsey. Someday she would understand and thank him for taking the wiser course.

  But he wanted her as he had never wanted anything in his life. He needed her gentleness and humor, her tenderness and faith. He wanted to be the reason she smiled, the reason she laughed. He ached to walk with her hand-in-hand into the forest and never return to civilization. He wanted to show her the ways of his people. He needed to show her the gentle side of himself that few people even knew existed.

  He wanted to fold her into his arms and never let her go. Now he understood why Bear protected Linsey with a fierceness that was astounding. Hawk felt the same way about Molly.

  He had never applied the word love to any emotions he’d felt for any of the women he’d dallied with in his past. He’d felt liking, friendship, even lust, but the gentler emotion of love had always been lacking.

  Until Molly. She had wiggled her way into his heart simply by being herself. Liking had grown to fondness; fondness had become love.

  Hawk stared at the darkened window and urged himself, for her sake, to get up and leave.

  Love kept him firmly seated beneath the giant elm.

  Sunlight streamed into the open window as Molly snuggled beneath the blanket. The inn was small and she had been forced to share with another lady and her maid. The lady, a Mrs. Fitzmyar, shared the bed with Molly while the maid slept on a pallet in front of the door. They had left at daybreak but Molly had easily drifted back to sleep, oblivious to the noises made around the bustling inn.

  She watched the dust motes drift through the sunlight and wondered where Hawk had spent the night. He had explained that the inn was full but that he wouldn’t have trouble finding some place for himself. A firm rap on the door interrupted her thoughts and brought her fully awake.

  “Mrs. Royse,” the innkeeper shouted through the door. “I’m ‘spose to give you a message that Mr. Hawk will be downstairs in an hour to escort you into town.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Molly called back. “I’ll be ready when he arrives.”

  Reluctance to leave the bed vied with impatience to start the day that would see her as Hawk’s wife before it was finished. She climbed from the bed and poured fresh water into the bowl on the washstand. A bath would have been delightful but she made do with a thorough scrubbing with the last of her bar of soap.

  Refusing to wear trousers for her wedding, Molly shook the wrinkles from a dress she had packed for the occasion. Sitting down on the rickety stool at the dressing table, she stared at her reflection in a poorly silvered mirror. As she pulled the brush through her tangled hair, her eyes came to rest on the gold band on her left hand.

  Molly stopped and stared at the ring. She remembered the pleasure she had felt when Adam had placed it there. She thought of the hours she had spent sitting on the hard seat of the wagon, watching it catch the sunlight.

  Lowering her arms, Molly turned the ring around an
d around on her slender finger. The innocent young bride had grown up cruelly fast when her husband had died in her arms. In her place was a woman who was stronger and more self-assured. A woman who knew that life had to be lived for the moment — tomorrow might never come.

  Molly had learned to grab at happiness before it could slip through her fingers. Marriage to Hawk, with all of its inherent problems, was the right thing for her to do.

  She loved him. Nothing could change that. And somehow they would find a way past the problems as they rose.

  Slowly, reverently, Molly slid the simple gold band from her finger. She clutched it in her hand before laying it on the dressing table. She stared at it as her fingers mechanically braided her long hair and wrapped the braids around her head. It stayed within her sight as she slid the dress over her head.

  A multitude of buttons closed the front of the simple gown but she soon found that they would not close. She stared with disbelief at the inch of space left between the buttons and buttonholes at her waist and breasts. She had worn the dress only a couple of weeks earlier and it had been snug but it had fit. Now the dress was simply too small.

  Reluctantly, Molly pulled out the clean shirt and trousers from her bag. She wadded the dress up and shoved it into the bottom of the bag along with her dirty clothes. She muttered about the impropriety of wearing trousers in general and to a wedding in particular as she hurriedly dressed.

  A harsh voice at the door informed her of Hawk’s arrival. She tried to .smooth some of the wrinkles from the shirt as she gathered together her belongings. Hoping that the Reverend Childers would find it in his nature to overlook her dishevelled appearance, Molly picked up her bag and walked to the door.

  On the dressing table, the golden band caught the morning light and sparkled with a rich luster. A symbol of what had been momentarily forgotten in the excitement of what would be.

  “Look at me,” Molly said to Hawk as she walked down the stairs. “I’ve never heard of a bride getting married in trousers and a wrinkled shirt!”

  Hawk barely noticed her clothing. He was entranced with her sparkling eyes and rosy cheeks. “You are beautiful,” he replied quietly. “Beautiful?” Molly chuckled and shook her head.

  “You must have spent the night standing on your head if you can look at me and say I’m beautiful.” She handed her bag to him. “Look at this shirt, it hangs nearly to my knees and there isn’t room for even one more wrinkle. And my hair is badly in need of a good scrubbing. And trousers —”

  “I see the glow of motherhood,” Hawk interrupted her, his deep voice soft so that it didn’t carry beyond her hearing. “I want to reach out and catch the joy that surrounds you. I long to place my head against your belly and hear the life within you.”

  Molly’s breath caught at the unspoken hunger blazing in his dark eyes. A blush climbed up her cheeks when she silently acknowledged that she was eagerly anticipating their wedding night. She couldn’t lie to herself by denying her fascination with the masculine perfection of Hawk’s body.

  “If you haven’t changed your mind, let’s go get married, Molly.”

  “I haven’t changed my mind,” she answered firmly.

  “Ahxk wai la tee wai thiik a tai,” he said softly, his dark eyes alive with emotion as he traced the angles and slopes of her face.

  “Which means?”

  His gaze moved from the gentle curve of her cheek to sear into her own. “To love is to burn.” His voice was suddenly harsh from the repressed emotion.

  “Do you burn, Hawk?” A shiver of excitement raced down her spine.

  She didn’t think he was going to answer as he reached for her elbow and escorted her out of the inn. Their horses were tied to the hitching post and she waited patiently as he secured her bag to the packhorse. He turned, placed his hands at her waist and lifted her to the saddle. Holding her in place, sitting on the saddle rather than straddling it, Hawk’s grip tightened until it was just short of painful.

  “I burn, ain jel ee, I burn.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Self-conscious in her highly unorthodox clothing, Molly smiled shyly when Hawk introduced her to John Childers and his parents. Mrs. Childers’s censorious expression belied her cordial greeting, but Molly didn’t know if it was caused by her trousers or by the man at her side or maybe both. Hawk was doing his best at the role of an intimidating Indian, and Molly longed to kick him.

  John and his father, the Reverend Childers, made up for any lack of friendliness on Mrs. Childers’s part. John in particular seemed delighted to meet Molly.

  “Are you sure you want to marry this blackguard, Miss Royse?” John asked with a grin. When Hawk had introduced her, he had neglected to give her status as a widow and Molly didn’t feel inclined to correct the misimpression.

  “Is there something I should know about him?” she asked, liking his irrepressible humor and friendliness.

  “Miss Royse, I have been an intimate of Mr. Hawk’s for an extended length of time. Please believe me when I say that it would take years for me to give you the details of his escapades.” He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, his eyes twinkling. “And those are only the ones acceptable to a lady’s ears. I’m afraid I’m too much of a gentleman to give you details of his more raunchy exploits.”

  “Call me Molly, please,” she invited as she waved her hand dramatically beneath her nose. “I fear that I must take my chances with him, since I don’t have years to spend listening to your discourse on his character.”

  “John, please remember that you are no longer twelve years old,” Reverend Childers said firmly, but the same twinkle in his son’s eyes was evident in his own as he turned to his wife. “Katherine, please take Miss Royse upstairs and help her to prepare for the ceremony. Mr. Hawk has expressed his desire to continue on his journey as quickly as possible.”

  Molly regretfully followed Mrs. Childers up the steep stairs. She remembered the warm reception she had received from Mrs. Cobb the day before and couldn’t help but compare it to the coldness of her current hostess.

  “You may use this room to change.” Mrs. Childers opened the door to what was obviously a guest room. Sparsely furnished, the room had an air of disuse. “I’ll have one of the girls bring you a pitcher of water.”

  “I will appreciate the water, Mrs. Childers, but I’m afraid I’ll be wearing my trousers for the wedding.” Disgusted by her attitude, Molly deliberately pulled her shirt snugly against her stomach. “Nothing else fits and I just don’t know what I’ll do when these trousers become too tight.”

  She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Hawk has so many … ah, needs, that he leaves me little time for domestic necessities such as sewing an adequate wardrobe.”

  If possible, Mrs. Childers’s nose rose even further in the air. “I was going to discuss this marriage with you and possibly try to dissuade you from your chosen course but I see that it is entirely too late. So be it, you will suffer the consequences of your misguided decision for the rest of your life, young woman. Marriage to a heathen will be hell on earth; may God have pity on your soul for your sins.” Disbelief at the woman’s attitude mingled with satisfaction, successfully keeping Molly tongue-tied until long after the door had closed behind Mrs. Childers.

  “Meddling old biddy!” Molly fumed as she attempted to straighten her hair. “Always looking for the worst in someone and ready to believe any gossip that comes along. How someone like her can have such a delightful husband and son I’ll never know!”

  She was still muttering definitely unladylike comments several minutes later when she descended the stairs and found the three men in the parlor. Mrs. Childers was nowhere to be seen nor had the promised pitcher of water appeared.

  “Please forgive my wife’s absence, Molly,” Reverend Childers began.

  “There is no reason to apologize for your wife, Reverend.” Molly kept a firm hold on her temper but it sparkled in her eyes. “She was eloquent in stating her posit
ion on my marriage to Hawk.” The older man took Molly’s hands into his own. “Katherine’s seemingly irrational behavior is based on a devastating experience from her past. As I have just explained to Hawk, who is generous enough to forgive her, Katherine was just a small child when she witnessed the annihilation of her family at the brutal hands of the Iroquois. She is normally a generous and loving woman but she can’t overcome her ingrained fear and hatred of Indians.”

  “I am sorry for her past, sir,” Molly stated firmly, “but to condemn an entire race of people because of the actions of a few of its members in not a Christian attitude.”

  Hawk walked up to Molly and, placing his hands on her stiff shoulders, turned her face to him. “If you marry me it will be this way the rest of your life, Molly.”

  “If you tell me that one more time, Nathan Morning Hawk,” she snarled between gritted teeth, “then so help me God, I’m still going to marry you but I’ll make your life miserable for the rest of mine. I’ll whine and cry and do anything I can think of to make you remember that statement!”

  A smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Is that a threat, ain jel ee?”

  “No, Hawk, that is a promise!”

  “Whoa! I think you’ve met your match, Hawk ole buddy,” John interrupted with a chuckle.

  “You should see her when she really gets worked up,” Hawk replied, his gaze never leaving Molly.

  “Something worth seeing, huh?”

  “Stunning!”

  “If you two are finished testing fate, and the lady’s justifiable anger at your teasing, I suggest we get on with the ceremony,” Reverend Childers commented. “I fear that if you continue to push your luck, Miss Royse may decide to show you an example of her temper.”