by Ana Seymour
He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Things such as not feeling guilty about wanting to come sit out under the stars with a fine fellow like myself. And giving yourself the liberty to feel the pull between us. It’s one of the oldest feelings of mankind, and it’s tugging mightily at my innards right now. Tell me you don’t feel it, too, Hannah.”
She sucked in a gulp of smoky air. “Captain, I came here tonight because I needed to talk to you—no other reason.”
Ethan pulled back and surveyed her. Her expression was hostile and, yes, afraid. It was hard to believe that a beauty such as Hannah Forrester had reached this age without becoming involved with any men, but he didn’t know what else to make of her fear. She was not shy in any other aspect of daily life that he had seen of her. In spite of her status as a servant, she had no trouble speaking her mind to him or any other member of the expedition on any number of subjects. A dark thought entered his head. Perhaps some unscrupulous lout like Hugh Trask had hurt her in the past, and that was what made her look at him like a rabbit caught in a trap.
“What was it you needed to talk to me about?” he asked gently.
“Nancy Trask. This pace is too much for her. She’s growing weaker each day, and Eliza says if she doesn’t rest, she’ll not have the strength left for the birthing when the time comes.”
Ethan tore his thoughts away from Hannah and her past. “I warned the Trasks before they came that it would be difficult for her.”
“Perhaps it was a mistake for them to come, but that doesn’t alter the fact that she’s wearing out, and we have to do something about it.”
Ethan stood and paced to the other side of the fire. “We can’t stop yet. I have to think of the welfare of the whole group.”
Hannah stood up, indignant. “So ask them. I’m certainly willing to stop. And I’m sure Mr. Webster and the Bakers will not object.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
Hannah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Just a few moments ago Ethan had sounded caring and tender. He’d implied that he had some feelings for her, and she had begun to believe that those feelings involved more than the male lust her mother bad talked about. But perhaps her mother had been right, after all. She glared at him across the flames. He looked big and menacing as the firelight flickered red across his dark face. “I can’t believe you won’t stop and let her rest for just a day. Why should there be such a hurry?” Hannah asked, her voice pleading.
“I told all of you who signed on this trip that my authority on the trail has to be absolute. We head out tomorrow as usual.”
Hannah would have shouted at him if she hadn’t been afraid of waking up the entire camp. Instead she put her hands on her hips and said as forcefully as she could, “Mrs. Trask’s life is in your hands!”
“All of your lives are in my hands,” he replied with irritating calmness.
Hannah removed her hands from her hips and crossed her arms. Then she uncrossed them. She tried to think of something more to say. Ethan continued to watch her silently. Finally she gave a huff of irritation and marched back to her tent.
Hannah was not willing to give up and let Captain Reed have the final word. He might be their guide, but he evidently didn’t have the humanity to see that one of their group was suffering. She approached Randolph as he was leading two of the horses down to the river for a drink. He turned to her with the new, special smile that seemed to be just for her and that still startled her each time she saw it. “Good morning, Hannah. Did you and my bairns sleep well last night?”
“Good morrow, sir. We slept fine, but I’ve a concern I’d like to discuss with you.”
Randolph dropped the horses’ leads and let them move to the river’s edge. “What is it? You look up-set.”
“It’s Mrs. Trask. She needs some time to rest before we move on. I talked to Captain Reed about it last night, and he absolutely refuses to stop.”
Webster frowned. “You talked to Reed?”
“Aye. He gave me no reason whatsoever, simply refused to slow down our progress for any cause.”
“When did you talk to him, Hannah?”
Hannah had the impression that her employer was more concerned about her conver-sation with the captain than about the health of Mrs. Trask. “Last night by the camp fire. I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to take the opportunity to approach him after everyone else had retired.”
“I don’t like you talking with him alone.”
Hannah shook her head in exasperation. She had yet to sort out her feelings about her meeting with Ethan Reed. But it frustrated her that Randolph was focusing on that rather than the matter at hand. First the captain, now Randolph. Why was it so difficult for them to pay attention to the health of a pregnant woman? They seemed to have everything else on their minds but what she was telling them.
“Mrs. Trask is too weak to travel,” she repeated in a slow, deliberate voice. “I’d like your help to convince Captain Reed that we should take a day of rest.”
Finally Randolph seemed to grasp what she was telling him. “Is she sick?” he asked.
“No. But the babe is weighing heavily on her. Eliza says that if we’re not careful, she could have it right out here on the trail.”
Randolph grew pale. Hannah remembered that in the first year of her indenture Mrs. Webster had suffered a miscarriage. Her disease was already in evidence by then, and Hannah had privately thought the loss was a fortunate thing for the health of her mistress. But Mr. Webster had been extremely upset. “Then we must stop and let Mrs. Trask rest,” he said.
Hannah gave a wan smile. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”
They left the horses drinking and went to find Ethan, recruiting Eliza along the way. The captain was at the back of the campsite fixing a broken cinch. He looked up as the three approached him, his smile fading when he saw the determined expressions on their faces.
“Good morning,” he said mildly.
“I understand that Hannah talked with you yesterday about Mrs. Trask’s condition and you refused to listen,” Randolph started out bluntly.
Ethan put the saddle to one side and stood, towering over all of them, even Randolph. “I listened to her. I just wasn’t able to accede to her request.”
In the harsh morning sunlight he looked every inch the woodsman, his broad chest filling out his buckskin jacket and his dark brown hair flowing freely down to his shoulders. Hannah felt her pulse quicken as she watched him facing her employer, his full mouth set in a pleasant smile that did not reach his eyes. She couldn’t believe that last night he had pressed that mouth to her skin.
Randolph appeared not the least intimidated by the captain’s size. “It so happens, Captain, that we are paying you, not the other way around. Which means if we want to stop a day, then that’s our decision.”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “You’re wrong, Webster. I take it you’ve never been in the army? You can think of this as a campaign. You all are the soldiers…and I’m the general.”
“You can call yourself a captain if you like, Reed, but we’re not in any damn army. You’re a hired hand, and we’re your employers. You’ll do as we say.”
There was no longer any pretense of a smile. “That’s not the way it works, Webster. If you feel that way, I have no choice but to take you all back to Philadelphia.”
The two men sized each other up like rival bulls, but Hannah could see that, whereas Randolph was losing his temper, Ethan kept his on a careful leash. There was no doubt in her mind who was the more dangerous. And she was not about to let their antagonism flare into open combat.
“Gentlemen,” she said sharply. “It’s not doing any good to have the two of you glaring at each other. Can’t we sit down and discuss this like civilized people?”
Ethan turned to her. His voice was calm enough, but it was obvious that his irritation now extended to her. “There’s nothing to discuss, mistress. Perhaps I should have explained to you more fully
last night, but it seemed I had other things on my mind.” His eyes skimmed briefly over her face. Hannah tried to hold steady, but finally dropped her gaze and engaged herself in smoothing her cotton skirt. After a moment, Ethan continued, “I also did not want to alarm the group.”
“Alarm us about what, Captain Reed?” Eliza Baker asked.
Ethan turned toward her, instantly respectful. “There are Seneca through this stretch of the trail, ma’am. They aren’t normally any trouble, but there’ve been a few rumors lately, and I didn’t want to take any chances.”
“Of course not,” Eliza said. She had the slightly quavery, calming voice of the grandmother she would now never be. “How much longer will we be at risk, Captain?”
“We should be out of their territory within two days, maybe three.”
“Let’s get moving then,” she said briskly. “I’ll give Nancy Trask some of my tonic this morning, and tonight I’ll brew her some sassafras tea to make her sleep. We’ll keep her going until you decide on a safe place for us to stop.”
Ethan gave the round little woman a grateful smile. Then he nodded curtly to Randolph and Hannah and strode briskly away.
* * *
Randolph kept his horse in line next to Hannah’s mule all that day, except for a short time around noon when he rode back to inquire as to the condition of Nancy Trask. The pregnant woman had appeared to be embarrassed that an argument had taken place on her account, and before they started out that morning she had assured everyone that she was perfectly fine. And, indeed, whether it was sheer power of will or Eliza’s tonic, her cheeks did have a bit of color for the first time in several days. Hugh Trask had been irritated at all the fuss, apparently feeling that it implied that he couldn’t take care of his own wife. He told Randolph as much when he came to inquire, and said brusquely that he’d thank him and the rest of the party to stay out of their affairs.
Hannah also found herself regretting the morning’s confrontation, and she wanted to find a moment to talk alone with Captain Reed. She did not intend to apologize exactly. After all, if he had explained to her about the Indians when she had first come to him with the issue, she would have understood and would never have gotten others involved. But she did feel bad that the morning’s incident had not helped the frosty relations between the captain and Randolph. An unspoken rivalry had grown between them even before they had left Philadelphia, and Hannah was still hoping that it had nothing to do with her. Both men were capable and intelligent. Both had congenial personalities and got along well with others. She couldn’t understand why the antagonism had developed.
The long day passed with Captain Reed pushing the party an extra hour to try to cover as much territory as possible. It wasn’t until they had pitched camp and eaten a cold dinner of salted pork and corn cakes that Hannah finally was able to talk with their guide. He was alone staking down the animals for the night. Randolph was busy in the tent playing with his children before saying good-night. Hannah walked in the darkness over to Ethan.
He smiled at her as she approached, but his welcome was not as warm as it had been on their previous meetings.
She did not waste time on preliminaries. “I’m sorry about the problems this morning,” she said. “You should have explained to me about the danger right from the beginning.”
It was hard to see his expression in the darkness. “Perhaps I should have,” he said simply.
“I…it’s possibly my fault for becoming agitated. I didn’t wait for an explanation.”
He leaned to pull a saddle off a speckled gelding that Peggy and Jacob had been riding together. Hannah had helped Peggy split her skirts so that she could ride a straight saddle without sacrificing her feminine modesty. “You became agitated, mistress, but that wasn’t why you didn’t get your explanation. I didn’t want to create alarm about the Indians, because most likely we won’t even encounter any.”
“You yourself said I was not a hysterical female, Captain Reed.”
Ethan came around the front of the horse and stood close to her. “Yes. But you are a stubborn one. Next time I’ll thank you not to question my decisions. The welfare of the group is the first thing on my mind. I know what I’m doing.”
The rebuke was probably deserved, but it stung. “Are we to understand that you are perfect, then, Captain?”
“I’m as damn near perfect a trail guide as you’re going to find in these parts. And in your case, I’m the only trail guide you’re going to find. So you’d better start listening to what I say, because your lives may depend on it.”
Hannah considered his words. “It might help matters if you would defer a bit to Mr. Webster. After all, he was the one who organized this expedition and hired you.”
“And hiring me was about the only thing the blamed fool has done right. He plans a settlement made up of one family with a sick, pregnant woman, two old people who should be sitting in rocking chairs back on their porches in Philadelphia, and a third family who backs out at the very last minute.” He shook his head and gave a soft slap to the flank of the horse next to them.
Hannah found herself wanting to defend her employer. “He couldn’t know that the Crawfords would withdraw from the expedition, or that Mrs. Trask would end up with child.”
Ethan bent toward her, continuing his criticism. “And then he endangers everyone by questioning my authority, just because he doesn’t like the fact that, unlike him, I have good enough eyes in my head to see the kind of woman he’s had living under his roof.”
Around them the night had closed in again. Out in the trees the insects were celebrating the first warm night of spring with their rhythmic chirping. From the river came the call of a wild duck. Over at the campsite she could hear a low hum of voices punctuated with muffled giggles from inside the tent she normally shared with the children.
A shiver went up Hannah’s back, in spite of the warm night. Her hopes that the antagonism between Ethan and Randolph had nothing to do with her died. She had tried to discount the notion as absurd. She couldn’t deny that Ethan had taken notice of her, but she had the impression that he was the kind of man who would take notice of almost any woman who happened to be at hand. And it was true that she had had more attention from Randolph in the past two weeks than in the two years that she had worked for him, but it was surely not attention of a romantic nature.
“Mr. Webster just wants this venture to be a success,” she said at last. “To suggest that he would jeopardize it because of some sort of competition over me or any woman is ridiculous. And, as I explained to you before we even started this journey, Mr. Webster has no feelings of that type for me.”
“You’re sure about that.” He moved so close that, in spite of the darkness, she could see the stubble of his beard.
“Absolutely,” she said firmly.
“He has no romantic interest in you?”
“None whatsoever.” She tried to take a step backward, only to find that her back was smack against the long neck of the horse.
“Then he won’t mind if I do what I’ve been thinking about since last night at the camp fire.” He lifted her against him, the muscles of his arms hard across her back. His lips were soft, gently compelling. They were warm and dry at first, but then drew moisture from hers with a half nibble and the tentative noninvasive stroke of his tongue.
Hannah felt her body turn to jelly inside, pleasantly, amazingly. He was the one to pull away.
“He won’t object?” Ethan asked again, a husky undertone to his deep voice.
Hannah blinked hard, trying to comprehend what he had asked her.
“Your employer,” Ethan prodded.
She pulled away from him, jostling the horse who tossed its head and gave a throaty rattle of protest. “My employer has nothing to say about it,” she said, trying not to sound as breathless as she felt. “But I do. I’m the one who’s objecting, Captain Reed.”
She turned and stumblingly made her way in the darkness back toward her tent. Etha
n looked after her with a half smile on his face. He had done his share of kissing. More than his share, some might say. And he knew one thing for darn sure. There had been not the least objection in the kiss he’d just shared with Hannah Forrester.
Chapter Five
Both Hannah’s and Ethan’s fears came to naught. The Philadelphia party crossed the Susquehanna River out of Seneca territory without incident, and Nancy Trask seemed to have finally adapted to the trail. She attributed her recovery to Eliza Baker’s tea, and the two women had formed a friendship. Hannah had never been able to get close to Mrs. Trask. The woman was unfailingly polite to her, but Hannah was unable to forget her servant status with Mrs. Trask, the way she was with Eliza.
As a result, Hannah felt a little shut out by the new bond between Eliza and Nancy. It added to the low spirits that had plagued her in the two days since her private encounter with Ethan Reed. She found herself spending an inordinate amount of her time thinking about the minute or so that his mouth had been in contact with hers. In all the times she had listened to her mother talk about the unspecified seductive wiles of the male animal, Hannah hadn’t a clue what she had meant. Well, now she knew. She decided she would keep her distance from both Ethan and Randolph and concentrate on making the children happy, especially Jacob.
After supper when they all sat around the fire, it seemed that she and Jacob were the two odd ones. Nancy and Eliza talked together about their mutual friends back in Philadelphia. Peggy huddled with Janie and Bridgett to speculate about the soldiers they would meet at Fort Pitt. And the men, in spite of a continuing reserve between Ethan and Randolph, always seemed to have some topic of vital importance to discuss, such as the value of the bayonet in armed conflict.
The feeling of isolation concerned her more for Jacob’s sake than her own. Her life with her mother had been a solitary one. The circumstances of her birth had precluded their entry into certain levels of society. Friendships had been discouraged. But Jacob had always been a gregarious, sunny child, and she didn’t want him to end up changing into a loner. She tried to engage him in conver-sation as often as possible, and she was grateful for the times when Ethan would turn to him and include him in the men’s conver-sations. Their guide seemed to remember the boy’s presence more often than his own father did.