LeClerc 03 - Wild Savage Heart

by Pamela K Forrest

  Within a short time he turned off the main path onto one that Molly had overlooked earlier. The new path, so overgrown it was barely visible, soon began a steady climb up the side of the mountain.

  The horses did all of the work, but Molly had to readjust her position frequently to allow for the angle of ascent, and she soon noticed a nagging pain in her back.

  “Is this going to be a short side trip?” she mumbled grimly after what seemed like hours of climbing.

  “Just a little further, Nee wah, “Hawk promised.

  “Nee wah? What’s that mean? And that thing you called me just before we started this new trail. What was that?”

  ”Ain jel ee is angel,” Hawk replied, his deep velvety voice a soothing sound in the quiet.

  “Angel,” Molly smiled softly. “I was acting like a spoiled brat being denied a sugar candy and you called me angel.”

  “You were acting like a woman who is carrying a precious gift within her body and desperately needs to rest.”

  “Not desperately enough to excuse rudeness.”

  “I have traveled with you for hundreds of miles, from the shores of Charleston,” he reminded her needlessly. “I know that you don’t usually complain about anything, always accepting things with a smile. I think we can allow for the babe you carry within your body and overlook an occasional bad mood.”

  “Complaining never did get me anything but I really am tired, Hawk.”

  “It has been a long trip, nee wah, with many more long days ahead of us, but it should get a little easier once we clear the mountains.”

  “Nee wah?”

  Hawk’s dark eyes deepened with intensity. “My wife.”

  A tingling awareness rippled through her body. “How do I say ‘my husband’?” she asked in a husky whisper.

  ” Wai see yah.”

  “Wai see yah,” she repeated softly. “My husband.”

  Molly began to feel light-headed as her gaze remained caught by the enigmatic expression on his usually unreadable features.

  As if he had come to some decision known only to himself, Hawk suddenly turned his horse and brought it up alongside hers. When only inches separated the two animals, Hawk reached over to cup the back of her head.

  “Nee wah, my wife,” he said quietly as he lowered his head to hers.

  His lips were soft and firm, the kiss as gentle and tender as a new spring day. His hold on the back of her head was so light that Molly knew she could pull away with little or no effort. It never entered her mind to resist.

  He raised his head until his face was the only thing filling her vision. “I will protect you for the rest of my life, nee wah. At times you may not understand or accept a decision I’ve made concerning you or the child. You might grow to hate me, but your tears and recriminations will not change my mind. Words spoken in anger will not turn me from my chosen way. If you trust me then you must trust my decisions.”

  Releasing her, Hawk again turned his horse and headed it up the trail. Reeling from the unexpected gentleness of his kiss, Molly automatically began to follow him.

  Her thoughts were a mass of confusion as she tried to understand his puzzling actions. Any other wife could safely assume that her husband was reassuring her but Molly knew better. There had been something in his eyes that forced her to believe that he had made a promise — one she wouldn’t be happy with. It was a long time later before the discomfort that had been overcome by the caress again tormented her exhausted body.

  “How much longer, wai see yah, before I can get off the back of this horse and feel the ground beneath my feet?”

  Molly arched her back to stretch her aching muscles, unaware of the way her shirt tightened across her breasts. Hawk’s gaze was captured by the action as the buttons threatened to pull loose from the holes. His attempt to ignore the way her breasts had enlarged with her pregnancy was thwarted as he watched her unintentional display.

  “Just a little further,” Hawk finally replied, tearing his eyes away from her. “There is something I want you to see, and, if you’re a good girl, there may even be a special surprise waiting for you.”

  “I’m always a good girl. So what’s the surprise.” Hawk turned his horse back toward the trail. “It won’t be a surprise if I tell you.”

  “But if you tell me then I’ll know exactly how good I want to be.” Reluctantly, Molly fell in behind him. “I mean, if it’s something extra special then you’ll be amazed at how good I can be.”

  “And if it’s only a little special?” Hawk asked with a chuckle.

  “Then I only have to be a little bit good. Why waste all that effort to be extra special good if the surprise is only a little bit good?”

  Hawk’s rich laugh floated on the breeze and Molly was surprised at her own reaction to it. She longed to ask him to turn around and face her so that she could see his humor reflected on his face. “You’ll just have to wait, mah chee mun et o.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “There isn’t a direct translation. It roughly means little devil.”

  “Oh, so now I’m a devil!” Molly smiled at his broad back. “How can I be an angel one minute and a devil the next?”

  “I admit that would be a problem for most people, but you seem to have an unique ability denied to most of us.”

  “And which do you prefer, wai see yah?” For some reason this silly, uncharacteristic chatter was making her forget the fatigue that had seemed so overwhelming just minutes earlier.

  “I prefer them all, sweet Moily.” Hawk’s voice had lost its teasing sound and she wished even more that she could see his face. “I want you in all of your moods, be they happy or sad, tired or teasing.”

  “If you want me, then why haven’t you made me yours?” she asked solemnly.

  No reply came from her suddenly quiet companion. Only the clip-clopping of the horses’ hooves broke the stillness. As the silence continued, the aches and pains — the small discomforts — again descended to plague her as she followed him up the mountain trail.

  “Hawk, I’m giving serious thought to being bad.” Molly tried to keep her voice light as she lost the battle with exhaustion. “And it’ll be all your fault if I don’t get my surprise.”

  Hawk stopped his horse and motioned for her to join him. “Listen closely. What do you hear?” Molly tried to detect a strange sound, but everything sounded the same as it had during most of the afternoon.

  “I give up, what do I hear?”

  “Woman, we’re going to have to work on your trail sense.”

  “Later, after I’ve had my surprise. Now what am I supposed to hear?”

  “You tell me.”

  Molly strained to identify the sounds around her. “I hear the wind in the trees and the birds singing.”

  “Very good, but what else?”

  “The horses breathing, my stomach growling with hunger and,” Molly stopped, a surprised look crossing her face. “A roar?”

  As she listened, she realized that vaguely audible in the distance was a distinct sound reminiscent of never-ending thunder, but the sky overhead was a clear, crystalline blue with no evidence of forthcoming rain.

  “It should still be warm enough for you to have a long leisurely bath,” Hawk commented.

  “A bath? A real sit-down-scrub-up-water-everywhere bath?” Molly’s eyes sparkled with delight.

  “As long as you don’t object to bathing in a river with a waterfall.”

  “Right now I wouldn’t object to bathing in a bucket beneath a pump as long as it’s big enough to get my whole body into!”

  “I think this’ll be big enough.” Hawk grinned at her, the smile crinkling the corners of his eyes and showing his strong, white teeth.

  “Let’s get to it.” Her smile matched his. “My bath is waiting and I’ve been soooo good!”

  The sound of the waterfall grew steadily louder as they approached the river. Molly sighed with delighted pleasure as the trail brought them to within sight of the
cascades.

  It was not a particularly large waterfall, but its beauty was in the surrounding trees and the huge slab of rock both above and below the falls that allowed easy access to the river.

  “Is it named?”

  “It’s had many names. My people used this land for centuries and it was once known as Shawnee River Falls. The white map-makers have called it Falls of the Cumberland after the Duke of Cumberland in England. I have heard reference to the fact that the crookedness of the river greatly resembled the Duke’s own character.

  “The locals, however, have the most romantic name for it. They call it the Moonbow Falls.”

  “Moonbow? Don’t you mean rainbow?”

  “Just wait,” he replied mysteriously. “You’ll have to see it for yourself.”

  “I’ll wait for just about anything if I can take a bath first,” Molly responded. “Even supper!” Hawk set up camp on a grassy meadow a comfortable distance from the river while Molly hunted through her bags for clean clothes and a drying cloth. Unlike some waterfalls where the roar of the water is so loud that ordinary conversation must be spoken in a raised voice, the Moonbow Falls provided a comforting sound in the background that allowed for normal speaking voices.

  When she was ready, Molly walked toward the river, wondering where she could find the best place for her bath. Alert, as always, for any sign of danger, Hawk followed her.

  Putting a hand on her shoulder, he stopped her when she reached the rocky slab. He pointed slightly upriver, above the falls.

  “There’re some rocks there that will provide privacy but there are few trees, so you’ll have plenty of sun for warmth.”

  Molly walked to his chosen place and set her clothing on a narrow ledge of one of the boulders.

  Hawk carefully studied the area to reassure himself that she would be reasonably safe. Boulders jutting into the river slowed it to a gentle flow, enough to allow the water to wash away the natural debris but not enough for him to worry that she would be swept over the falls.

  “Don’t wade out too far or you might be caught in the current,” he cautioned, needlessly.

  “I won’t,” she replied impatiently. “Now go away so that I can bathe.”

  “The water will be pretty chilly,” he warned.

  “I realize that! Go away, please!”

  “I’ll be within sound of your voice so scream if you need me.”

  “I appreciate that, but now that I know what my surprise is I don’t need to be good any longer and if you don’t go away so that I can enjoy it, Nathan Morning Hawk, I have a feeling that I’ll become very, very bad!”

  “That might prove to be very interesting,” Hawk teased.

  “Hawk!”

  With a grin, he turned away. “This isn’t your surprise mah chee mun et o.”

  “It isn’t?” Molly stopped unlacing her leather shoes. “Then what’s my surprise?”

  “You’ll see,” he replied mysteriously as he headed back to camp.

  Her natural curiosity was temporarily waylaid by the overwhelming desire to wash away the days’ accumulation of trail dust. She nearly tore the clothing from her body in her excitement to get into the river.

  The clear, blue water was chilly but Molly decided even a warm bath in a tub wouldn’t have felt as good, as she lowered her aching body into the river. With the water swirling just beneath her breasts, she repeatedly soaped her hair, dipping briefly beneath the surface to remove the lather.

  When her hair squeaked between her fingers, she began to wash her body. She sighed with pleasure as she attempted to rub some of the soreness from her arms and shoulders. Hanging onto the reins as the horse had climbed the side of the mountain had required constant vigilance and the use of muscles unaccustomed to such exercise.

  Her soapy hands lowered to her breasts and she was pleased that they no longer ached as they had earlier in her pregnancy. Their new fullness seemed strange to her and she tried to ignore the budding of their peaks in response to her innocent touch.

  She softly caressed her rounded stomach, her thoughts turning to the child cradled within. For several days, the first time on the day she became Hawk’s wife, she had felt a gentle flutter that already seemed to be growing stronger in its intensity and frequency. She had longed to share the knowledge with Hawk and had waited for the right time to do so, but that time had never come. Perhaps tonight she would find the right time to tell him and soon he, too, would be able to feel the movements within her body.

  Her movements slow and dreamy, in spite of the cool water, Molly finished her bath. Wading from the river, she stood at the edge drying with the bath sheet and relishing the warmth of the late afternoon sun. Already the air was hinting at the chill that would come as the sun lowered in the sky, but for now it was warm enough for her to linger in her task.

  Wrapping the bath sheet around her body, Molly sat on a convenient rock and scrubbed at her dirty clothes. Wringing the moisture out, she spread them to dry, pleased that she would have something fresh to wear later in the week. Men’s pants and shirts were unbelievably comfortable but she missed the feel of a skirt around her ankles. She knew it would be many weeks before she would be able to wear her dresses, and by then they would be a poor fit across her swollen stomach, but she would be relieved to see the last of trousers and shirts.

  Her leisurely movements became more rapid when she began to detect the delectable odors drifting on the breeze. After pulling on her trousers and buttoning up her shirt, Molly grabbed her shoes and the bath sheet and walked toward camp. She wrung water out of her long hair as she walked, enjoying the feel of the grass beneath her bare feet.

  Unaware of the fetching picture she presented with her pink cheeks and bare feet, Molly smiled sweetly when she approached Hawk.

  Squatting beside the fire to check on the cooking food, Hawk was all too aware of the enticing femininity of her presence. He breathed deeply, enjoying the flowery scent of the soap lingering on her skin and hair. He watched as she sat on a quilt he had spread out for her and as she attempted to untangle her hair.

  She was serene, tranquil and so female that the male in him threatened to overtake his iron-fisted control.

  “I have never had anything feel so good!” Molly sighed as she pulled a brush through her hair.

  You have never felt me touching you, Hawk thought to himself, fighting the urge to speak aloud.

  “That water felt like satin.”

  My touch would be a feather stroking your skin.

  “If it hadn’t been a little chilly I’d still be in there.”

  There would be nothing but heat when I touched you.

  “And that water tasted nearly as good as it felt.”

  Nothing could compare with the taste of you.

  Hawk thought feverishly, his desire running rampant through his body. I would taste and touch and sample until neither of us knew where you began and I ended.

  Molly stopped and stared at the profile he presented to her. “You’re awfully quiet. Is something wrong?”

  “Watch supper while I take a quick bath,” he replied abruptly, turning so that she saw only his back when he stood. The evidence of his desire was blatantly apparent and he wanted to conceal it from her. He remembered all too well the conversations of his friends who had warned him that white women accepted lovemaking as a necessary evil, not as something to be enjoyed.

  “Hawk? Is something wrong?” she asked again.

  “No, I just want a quick bath before it turns too cool.” He walked away from her, pleased that his voice had sounded nearly normal.

  Molly watched his retreating back, puzzled by the abruptness of his voice. He had been unfailingly pleasant all day and now, suddenly, for no reason he had turned harsh and irritable.

  She finished brushing the tangles from her hair and left it loose to dry. The simple meal was ready and the sun was lowering in the sky by the time Hawk returned from the river. His mood was still rather sharp but he was no longer hars
h nor did he snarl at her.

  “Isn’t it amazing how good it feels to get the trail dust off?” Molly asked as she ate her supper.

  Hawk looked with disgust at his strong, capable hands holding his plate and fork and wondered why he had thought that the cold water would be enough to control his raging lust.

  The sound of her voice on the sweet evening air, the scent of her filling his nostrils, her long hair ruffled by the gentle breeze, her swollen breasts filling her shirt, her bare feet tucked femininely beneath her …

  Molly drifted into silence when Hawk didn’t respond to her simple statement.

  Hawk cursed himself for a fool and tried to force his meal down his throat.

  She wondered what she had done wrong.

  He wondered if he was strong enough to fight himself and win.

  She knew she would gladly apologize if only she knew what she had done.

  He knew he’d never make it another night with her sleeping so closely by his side. He’d have to make her his.

  And he was tormented by the knowledge that she would be horrified if she knew the true extent of his desire for her.

  Molly sighed and stared into the fire. She had been raised to believe that a lady never questioned a gentleman when it was obvious that his temper had been aroused. Damn it, she wasn’t a lady, she was his wife and she wanted to know what she’d done to make him so angry!

  Her soft sigh drifted around him, seeming to settle in the one spot that needed no further invitation. He eyed her with such hunger and passion that she felt it and she lifted her gaze from the fire.

  Molly shivered at the intensity of his burning gaze. His anger was a throbbing, living thing between them. It would be a long night, she decided.

  Hawk stood abruptly and left camp. If he didn’t put some space between them he knew he wouldn’t be capable of controlling this craving to find peace within her body.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Molly heard Hawk return to camp long after she had cleaned up the supper dishes and settled down for the night. She had watched the dancing flames of the fire as they ate away at the wood she had put on it, feeling no fear as it burned down and the darkness enclosed her, knowing instinctively that he was within the sound of her voice.