By Love Alone

by Judith E. French

  As the crops ripened on Ashton Hall, Kate's plan followed suit. Pride would learn he was not the only one who could practice deception.

  Chapter 10

  A violent summer thunderstorm gave Kate the opportunity to take shelter in the barn. She stood just inside the big double door until her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the interior. Meshewa smelled her and whinnied a greeting. "Hello, boy," Kate called. "Good boy." She went to the roomy box stall and hugged him.

  A figure at the far end of the barn was mucking out a stall. There seemed to be no one else in the barn. Kate waited a few moments, soothing the pinto, flinching when thunder cracked overhead. Storms had never been a favorite.

  She was wearing the loose shirt and breeches. They had become a habit when she was riding. The comfort was overwhelming. They gave such freedom in walking that it seemed natural to wear them more and more. Pride and Rebecca humored her and there was no one else to shock with her unmaidenly behavior. Rebecca had produced several more shirts and had set the maids to sewing. If Kate wished to wear boy's clothing she could, as long as she appeared properly dressed for dinner.

  When she was certain they were alone, Kate went to the tack room for a currycomb. Cautiously, the man followed.

  "Sure you weren't seen comin' in here?" Simon questioned.

  "The way it's raining outside it doesn't matter. Have you thought more on what I said?" Kate stared at him arrogantly. If Simon were to help her escape, he must remember his position. She couldn't have him think she was afraid of him or that she wasn't the one in control. Pride was right. He was untrustworthy. But one could hardly choose a church deacon for what she had in mind. She had dealt with tougher men than him before.

  His eyes narrowed, and he scratched at his beard. "I don't know. I could be hanged if I'm caught. We know where you'll end up." He laughed unpleasantly.

  "I can provide the horses and the supplies. Once we reach Philadelphia I know of a banking house where my father has friends. They'll provide us with funds to take passage on a ship home." She folded her arms and leaned back against the door, pretending a coolness she didn't feel.

  "And what's to keep yer fancy friends from turning us in fer the reward? There's always a reward for runaway bond servants. Never saw a banker yet wouldn't sell his own mother fer two shillings."

  "Not these men. They've reached the position they have by keeping confidences. Besides, my family did them a favor a long time ago." There was no need to keep her voice low. The drumming of the rain on the cedar roof and the howl of the wind were enough to lose their voices in the emptiness of the stable.

  "You'd trust them?"

  "With my life. The Storms and the... Never mind. There's no need for you to know their names. Your job is to lead us west and then northeast to Philadelphia without being caught."

  "Be a sight easier to ride straight east." He stepped close to her until she could smell his unwashed body. "Be less nights to spend in the woods together."

  "And where do you think the search party will look first?" Kate made a sound of disgust. "You're getting your freedom and you'll be well-paid. But don't think for a minute that I won't blow your brains out if you forget who you are and who I am. You're being hired to do a job. If you can't do it, I'll find someone else who will."

  "What's to keep me from carryin' the tale to Ashton? He'd pay well to hear it."

  "Try it. And I'll tell him you tried to rape me. Who do you think he'll believe?" Kate's chin went up. "I've no doubt you feel the same toward me as I toward you. But we need each other. What say you? Are you game?"

  "When?"

  "On Friday morning, Pride's riding to Annapolis. We'll give him a few hours' start and then head out in the opposite direction. I won't be missed until nightfall if I give reason for skipping the dinner hour. I want to reach Philadelphia in plenty of time to sail for England in good weather. Friday?"

  Simon nodded. "Friday. But I warn you. Once I'm free of here I'll not be slowed down by a woman. You'll keep up with me or be left in the woods. Clear?"

  Kate laughed. "I wouldn't worry about it."

  The following day, the weather cleared and she and Pride rode out to investigate a report that a squatter was building a cabin south of Ashton Hall. They traveled fast and hard for two hours, following first a faint trail and then cutting across a rocky meadow and over a series of hills. Kate had lost all sense of direction and the trees overhead kept her from taking a bearing by the sun.

  "Are you sure you're not lost?" she asked finally. A blackberry thicket had tangled her hair and left Meshewa with bloody scratches down his sleek sides.

  "No." He reined in the chestnut and motioned her to silence. "Thought I heard something."

  Kate listened. There was no sound at all, no birds, nothing. Puzzled, she stared hard into the woods around her.

  "Get down," he ordered, slipping from his saddle. Wrapping the reins around his waist, he pulled the long rifle from the saddle holster and checked the priming. "Keep your horse quiet."

  Kate held Meshewa's head and waited. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck. Her legs cramped from standing still. What was it? What had he heard or not heard? What danger were they in? Her mouth felt dry and she bit at her lower lip.

  Minutes passed. A bird whistled and Kate nearly jumped out of her skin.

  Pride's hand clamped over her mouth. He pushed her down to the ground, and she crouched there, terrified. The bird sound came again from a different direction. "Deet-dee-dee."

  Meshewa moved restlessly and Kate pulled a handful of grass to pacify him. The chestnut stood like a statue, not a muscle moving.

  A squirrel chattered directly above them, and Pride relaxed. He helped Kate to her feet and then onto Meshewa's back. "We've got to go back," he said. "Right away."

  "Why? What was it?"

  "It sure as hell wasn't a towhee."

  Kate frowned. The little bird was one of her favorites. "But it sounded like—"

  Pride swung into the saddle. "If it was, he was near six feet tall and wore Iroquois markings. Let's ride!" He turned his stallion's head in the direction they'd come.

  "Iroquois? Is it safe?"

  Pride ignored her. There was nothing to do but follow. Once out of the thick woods, he urged the chestnut into a hard trot. His rifle lay across his saddle, ready.

  "You saw them? Which way were they heading?" Kate reined Meshewa close, and for a moment their legs brushed. She ignored the little thrill which ran through her whenever she touched him. The fear was receding, overridden by a sense of adventure. She hadn't seen or heard anything that indicated Indians. How had Pride known they were there, if they really were?

  "I saw them. Ten, maybe fifteen, not counting scouts."

  "On horseback?" Kate asked, disbelieving. She'd heard no animals either.

  "On foot. The main war trail's farther west along the Blue Ridge Mountains. They shouldn't be here. That's why we're heading home." The stallion turned onto a deer trail and Pride pushed him into an easy canter.

  The August sun was hot. Meshewa's sides were soon streaked with sweat. He gave no sign of tiring, though, as he followed willingly in the chestnut's path. Kate rode on, trying to ignore the dryness of her mouth and wishing they'd cross a creek soon.

  When they did reach a river, she didn't have to be told to water Meshewa first, or to allow him only small sips. It was a relief to dip her head completely under and to splash water over her sweat-soaked body. Pride kept an uneasy vigil as they rested the animals and shared the food in their saddlebags.

  "I should have brought Jonas with me, or Bill," he admitted, breaking the silence. "But I wanted a day alone with you."

  "Jonas? I haven't seen him since I arrived at Ashton Hall."

  "He's been up in Pennsylvania for me, acting as scout for the military. He just got back last night. That's why I didn't ask him to come. He was worn pretty thin."

  "What do you mean, scouting for you? You mean the King's regulars?" Kate took anothe
r long swallow of water. It was heavenly.

  "His Majesty's advisers don't have the faintest idea what's going on north of here. Jonas knows his business. He can help a few British soldiers keep their hair without starting an all-out war. I sent him, along with a letter of recommendation. He was of use to Colonel Ayers-Smith as well as to me. The news he brought back was all bad." Pride ran a hand through his dark hair. "You're to stay close to the house while I'm gone, Kate."

  "If it's so dangerous, why are you going to Annapolis?"

  "It's urgent that I be there for the governor's conference." He tightened the chestnut's cinch strap and mounted. "Let's not waste any more time."

  They were crossing a rock-strewn meadow when Kate spied a movement in the tall grass. "Oh, look! What's that?" She reined in the pinto to get a better look.

  A black furry ball waddled toward her. "Pride, look! It's a bear cub!" It was hardly bigger than a pup, with a little pink tongue and coal-black eyes.

  "Get—"

  Pride's warning shout was lost in the savage roar that emitted from the throat of the mother bear as she hurled herself toward Kate and the pinto.

  Meshewa screamed and reared, panic-stricken by the musty scent of bear. Kate rose in the stirrups, fighting to keep control of the horse. Pride brought the barrel of the rifle down across the pinto's rump and he bolted toward the woods. Pride fired the rifle over the head of the charging bear and wheeled the stallion far to the left.

  The sow hesitated. The squeal of the cub drew her attention, and she ran toward it, snarling defiance toward the intruders. She raised on hind legs, peering about with red shot pig eyes, then dropped to nuzzle the crying cub. The hated scent of man drifted away.

  Kate clung to the mane of the terrified pinto as he plunged through the trees. Branches caught at her face and hair, threatening to tear her from the saddle. She sawed at the bridle futilely. She didn't know that the horse had survived a grizzly attack as a colt, and nothing could dim the memory of that terror, renewed now by the smell of angry bear!

  "Whoa, Meshewa!" Kate cried. "Whoa!"

  Pride galloped up a steep bank and into the woods in an attempt to cut her off. "Pull him in a circle!" he yelled, but his words were lost in the crash of brush and snapping branches.

  The ground fell away before the pinto, and horse and rider tumbled head over heels down a gully. Kate was thrown clear of the thrashing legs and rolled to a breathless stop. Meshewa's cry of pain cut through her like a knife and she scrambled down the incline, oblivious to the cut on her forehead or her throbbing shoulder. "Meshewa!"

  The pinto was a tangle of reins, saddle and underbrush. Tears ran down her cheeks as Kate stripped away the broken saddle and tried to pull free the branches. "Good boy," she soothed. "Good Meshewa. You're all right. You're all right."

  Pride appeared at the top of the hill. "Kate? Are you all right?"

  "I'm all right! I can't get him up! His legs are tangled!"

  "I'll be right down!" Cautiously, Pride urged the chestnut down the edge of the gully.

  The pinto gave a low whinny and staggered up. "Good boy," Kate murmured. "Good boy." She felt the slender forelegs anxiously for broken bones, then led him forward a few steps.

  Pride reached the bottom and threw himself from the saddle, grabbing Kate by the arms. She flinched. "You're hurt," he said. "You're bleeding." He pulled her against him. "My God, you could have been killed!" Tenderly, he touched the cut on her head.

  "Ouch! Leave it alone."

  He took her chin, tipped it up, and kissed her. Kate's knees went suddenly weak and she leaned against him, unable to resist the kiss. "Oh, Katy, I thought I'd lost you." His hands were in her hair, stroking her, and his body molded against hers.

  "Ouch! Stop that." She rubbed the back of her head. A bump was rising. "Let me see how bad Meshewa's hurt."

  "Damn the horse. It's you I care about," Pride whispered hoarsely. He kissed her again. The kiss deepened as she warmed to his touch.

  Kate's arms went up to pull him down to her, all caution thrown to the winds. It's the last time, a voice within her cried. The last time. His hand was inside her shirt, covering her swelling breast. She felt her nipples harden and a familiar moistness seeped from the core of her womanhood. Her mouth opened to his searching tongue and then everything went black.

  "Kate! Kate!" Pride knelt over her. "Kate!"

  She opened her eyes. "What happened?"

  "I think you fainted. That blow to your head must have been worse that I thought." He helped her to sit up. "How do you feel?"

  "Dizzy. Did we..." She blushed as memories flooded through her. They had been...

  "No. You passed out on me. I've never had a woman do that, one that wasn't drunk, that is. Do you think you can stand?"

  "Of course I can stand up." She got to her feet unsteadily. "I couldn't have fainted. I never faint." She rubbed at her aching head. "Meshewa? Is he all right?" She turned to look at the pinto. He stood, head down, with one leg up.

  Pride examined the animal carefully. "Nothing broken. Probably pulled something in the fall. It needs wrapping and care when we get back to the stable. Do you think you can ride?"

  Kate nodded. She couldn't remember fainting. But if she had, perhaps it was best. Why start up something that could never be finished? She had no resistance to him. In another moment they would have been making love right here on the ground. "I can ride."

  "Between the bear and that damn horse we made enough noise to alert the French up in Canada. We'd better head for Ashton Hall. You'll ride with me. He can't carry any extra weight on that leg."

  "Is it safe for him to walk on it?" She patted the sleek neck and withers. "Poor Meshewa. Poor boy."

  "We can't leave him here. That mother black bear may decide to have him for supper. It might be better for him to walk the stiffness out anyway."

  It was long past dark when they arrived at the plantation. A worried Rebecca had waited supper. "Jonas and Bill rode out to look for you two hours ago," she said.

  Kate watched as Simon led Meshewa toward the barn. "I'll be out with a hot compress soon," she said.

  "You'll do no such thing. You'll go straight to bed," Pride ordered. "I'll tend to your pinto." He looked at his mother. "She fell down a hill and took a knock on the head."

  "Kate! You must let me see to it. Pride's right. A bath and bed for you."

  "But I'm starving." Protesting, she allowed herself to be fussed over. A bath did sound heavenly, and her shoulder was killing her. "We saw a bear," she told Rebecca. "And Pride said—"

  Pride motioned her to silence. "Later, when we're alone." His eyes moved toward the servants. "I'll see to Meshewa first, and then we'll tell Mother."

  Rebecca stiffened and she mouthed an unspoken word. Pride nodded and she turned back to Kate, her lovely face a mask of stone. "Come, child," she murmured. "You look like you've had the worst part of a bear fight."

  In the morning, Kate was sore but clear-headed. She'd half-expected their encounter with the Iroquois to cancel Pride's trip to Annapolis, in spite of what he'd said, but it soon became evident he was still going.

  "No riding out while I'm gone. I shouldn't be more than a week or two at most. I'll leave Bill here to look after things."

  "You don't think they'll come back and attack the plantation?"

  Rebecca poured another cup of tea. "If they were going to hit us, they'd have done it on their way south. I'm sending a rider to my people. They should know of this. Who and why and if we need be concerned."

  "I could hardly ride Meshewa with his leg swollen like that." Kate had been to the stable before breakfast. The injury was painful but she didn't think it would leave him with permanent damage. The worst thing was, she would be unable to take him with her when she made her escape.

  "You're not to ride any of the animals. I'll leave word with the stableboys."

  "Then I'm to consider myself under house arrest."

  "Damn it, Kate! You see, Mother, what I
told you. She's impossible."

  "Maybe you'd better lock me in my room." Kate stood up, trying to keep her voice soft. "Either you trust me or you don't."

  "It's got nothing to do with trust," Rebecca soothed. "I won't be riding out either. Until we know whether there's a state of war, we'll live cautiously."

  "It's your safety I'm thinking of and you know it," Pride insisted. He came around the table and put out his hands to her. "Let's not fight before I leave."

  Kate brushed him aside and fled to her room. This time she was the one lying, the one deceiving, and she didn't like it at all! It was what she had to do. She had to. She kept repeating that to herself as she wept bitter salt tears into her pillow.

  She didn't answer the knocks at her bedroom door or the urgent voice that called her name. Eventually, it stopped and she heard his footsteps receding down the hall.

  "Goodbye, Pride Ashton," she whispered. "Goodbye."

  Pride rode out at dawn with Jonas and four other armed men. Kate watched from her chamber window, ignoring the lump in her throat. There was no turning back.

  The servants were all outside to see the master off. It was easy to slip into Pride's room. She needed a gun and that was the best place to find one.

  The floor of Pride's chamber was strewn with animal skins, bear and wolf. The simple pieces of elegant Chippendale furniture were augmented with Oriental paintings and strange wooden masks Kate assumed were American Indian. A bow and quiver hung over the fireplace, the beaded quiver a thing of rare beauty. Books filled the shelves along one wall. A desk held an unfinished map of the colony. A quill lay forgotten on the fine parchment.

  Again Kate was struck by the diverse nature of the man. He was as many faceted as a precious gem. She pushed thoughts of Pride Ashton from her head. She would not think of him at all. She began to search the room.