“The first snow of the winter had fallen, and we were working our lines back toward our winter camp,” Bear said, his voice deep with memory. “I almost stumbled on Wolf in the darkness. He had carelessly stepped in one of our steel traps.”
Bear grinned. “To this day, he swears he wasn’t careless, just intent on following a deer.
“It’s amazing that the trap didn’t cut off his foot. As it was, if we hadn’t found him when we did, he would have bled to death. We built a fire and kept him warm, doing our best to stop the bleeding. In the morning I carried him to the village.
“He was delirious by the time we arrived, and there were a few rather uncomfortable days while we waited to see if he’d live or die.
“When he recovered, we were invited to spend the winter in the village. My father decided it would be a good experience for both of us and accepted.”
He became quiet, and Linsey waited for him to continue. “Is that it?” she asked when it became obvious he was finished with his story.
Bear smiled at her curiosity. “Not really,” he said. “I was the first white man Wolf had ever seen while he was the first Indian I had ever had the chance to know. We had to prove our strengths to each other; after all, I couldn’t let him think he was stronger than I was. We spent that first winter doing more fighting than anything else.
“I won most of the fights simply because I was almost twice his size, but when it came to tracking —” Bear shook his head, chuckling “— he’d lose me in the woods every time we went out. Even with the snow thick on the ground, he’d get away from me. More than once I spent the night out in the cold because he had managed to get me lost and then drifted away like a shadow. I’d spend the night sitting with my arms wrapped around me, shivering and cursing while he’d be in the village, warm and toasty.”
Linsey had to wait for Bear to finish chuckling before he continued. “That first winter we were more enemies than friends. While he felt great respect for my father, considering it was his aid that had saved him, Wolf thought I was rather like a stupid bear. He was the first one to call me Bear, and believe me it was not a compliment!
“We wintered with the tribe every year for the next five. Each new winter Wolf and I felt we had to prove ourselves to each other. Finally, one winter I could not out fight him; he couldn’t lose me in the woods. We tracked game equally as well; I was only slightly more accurate with a gun, he with a bow and arrow. We became friends.”
Bear set the finished trap on the floor and leaned back in the chair. “That spring before we left, we became blood brothers.” He held up his left arm, and almost lost among the other scars was a thin straight one just above his wrist.
His face clouded, and Linsey knew the new memory was bringing pain to him. “The next winter my father was dying by the time we reached the village. I had carried him for miles while he fought to breathe. Even the old Grandmother couldn’t save him.
“I wintered alone with the tribe that year. When spring came, Wolf invited me to stay.” He looked up at her and shrugged lightly. “I did.”
The fire crackled, filling the silence with its familiar sound. Linsey watched Bear as he stared into the fire, and the question that had haunted her since his illness sprang unwittingly to her lips.
“Who was Snow?” she asked softly.
Bear was startled by her quiet question and wondered where Linsey had heard about Snow. “Snow On The Trees was Wolf’s younger sister,” he answered quietly. “She became my wife two winters after my father’s death. I had to prove to her father that I was worthy of his only daughter.”
Bear stood and walked to the fire. He knelt in front of it and added several logs. When he said nothing more, Linsey knew he was not ready yet to tell her about his beloved wife.
“In the morning, if you’ll show me how to work with hides, I’d like to try making something for either Morning Moon or her baby,” Linsey said, abruptly changing the subject. “I can embroider fairly well on cloth, but I’ve never had the opportunity to work with hides.”
Bear sighed quietly and shook the melancholy thoughts from his mind. He was relieved that she had changed the subject but knew he would someday tell her of Snow. He would have to.
“It will give you something to do while I’m gone.” At her startled expression he grinned. “I am a trapper. It has been too many days since I’ve checked my traps. If I expect to have any to sell come spring, I have to get busy.”
Linsey closed her eyes, hiding their expression. She had spent several days alone in the cabin before he arrived, so why did she suddenly worry about being alone again. “Fine,” she said firmly. “I’ll be just fine.”
“Of course you will, mon ange. I will be gone only during the day. I will not leave you here alone at night.”
“I’ll be fine.” She tried to hide the shudder from his too observant eyes … and failed.
Kaleb stared at the ceiling above his head and wished he had not decided to spend the night in the abandoned cabin. He hated sleeping inside, even on cold winter nights. He preferred to look up and see the stars, watch them twinkle so far away until he drifted to sleep.
He was getting closer. Jeb and Zeke were making no attempt to hide their trail. Kaleb’s job had become easier with their arrogance. He knew Jeb had decided Kaleb had given up the search. He had begun to find dead campfires, and they had used this cabin. Kaleb had felt the dead ashes in the fireplace and detected a slight warmth. He doubted if he was farther than a day behind them now.
Kaleb closed his eyes, but the memories wouldn’t let him sleep. Somehow Mary’s battered face combined with Linsey’s terrified one. He was glad he had taken the time to save the girl from the clutches of Jeb and Zeke. He had lost only a few days by taking her to Bear’s cabin.
In the silence Kaleb chuckled, wondering at Bear’s reaction when he returned to his cabin and found the girl. Maybe after he finished with Jeb and Zeke he’d go back, just to check on her.
She’d be quite a woman someday, Kaleb decided. She had grit and backbone. Couldn’t have made it as far as she had if she’d been a prissy city girl. She’d be the kind of woman a man could plan a future with, just like Mary.
A pain lanced through Kaleb, so deep he had no choice but to wait it out. The pain didn’t come as often any more. Almost as if time was healing a wound little by little, he could remember Mary more often without feeling like he was going to die from the loneliness that engulfed him.
“Soon, my sweet Mary,” Kaleb whispered through the darkness. “I promise ya, hit will be soon.”
He closed his eyes and tried to find sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It had seemed strange being in the cabin without Bear. Constant reminders of his presence were reassuring; his shirt, a spare hat, the pipe that she’d seen him smoke only once. Knowing that he had promised to return each night had helped, but it wasn’t the same as having him there all day. The first day had been the hardest. Every noise had made Linsey jump, and with little to occupy her time, the hours had dragged by.
The next morning, before he left, Bear showed her where he kept needles and thread, and she spent the long afternoon repairing the damage to her dress. One evening he carved several buttons for her to replace the ones that were missing, and after a good washing the dress “was serviceable if not attractive.
Now, after almost a week of him leaving each morning and returning just before dark, Linsey was becoming accustomed to his absences. She found that she enjoyed the solitude and realized she had never truly been alone before. There had always been someone just within calling distance, and even when she sought the quiet of her room, someone else was in the house.
The last few days, she had worked on a gown for Morning Moon’s new baby. After carefully cutting the white deerhide into the desired shapes using a razor sharp knife, Linsey punched small holes along the edges. Bear had shown her how to use an awl to make the holes and then sew the pieces together using narrow strips of sinew.
Linsey had been pleased with the finished product until she realized Bear had nothing she could use to embroider the tiny gown. She could not give it to Morning Moon without some sort of decoration. During her visit in the village, she had noticed that each piece of clothing was heavily decorated. Some of the clothing had intricate geometrical patterns while others had flowers, animals or birds. Colorful beads made of various materials were skillfully worked into the pattern.
Linsey put the gown on the table and looked around the room, searching for something to use. She did not want to sew beads on the gown, fearing that the baby would pick at them until they came loose, put one in his mouth and choke.
Sighing with exasperation, she ran her fingers through her hair, testing it to see if it had dried yet from being washed earlier that morning. Shortly after Bear left, Linsey heated several pots of water. Her hair had not been given a good wash since leaving Philadelphia, so she indulged herself, using the flowery scented soap. It was a time-consuming project, nearly impossible for one person. Her almost hip-length hair was thick and full of hidden tangles, and by the time she finished, she felt slightly dizzy from hanging nearly upside down. She had gotten as much water on herself and the floor as she had on her hair, but for the first time in weeks, it was truly clean and, after hours of patient combing, tangle free. As her fingers wove through the slightly damp strands, an idea came to mind.
Sitting down, Linsey pulled several pieces of hair free. Working slowly she twisted them together making a long thread of red. She tested the thread on a spare piece of hide, using the needle Bear had given her. After several attempts, Linsey found that five pieces of hair twisted together made the right thickness for the embroidery. Delighted with her discovery, she spent the remainder of the afternoon happily occupied.
Darkness was descending when Bear reached the cabin. He had managed to return each evening before dark, but he knew that soon he would have to stay out overnight. His trap lines stretched for miles, and it was impossible for him to work the farthest traps and still return at night. He worried about leaving Linsey alone in the cabin and thought about taking her with him; but he knew she would slow him down considerably, and he wasn’t sure how her tender heart would react to the animals caught in his traps.
Linsey put the gown down when she heard noises outside the cabin. She picked up the knife she had been using and held it defensively in front of her. When Bear’s familiar voice demanded that she let him in, she dropped the knife and ran to open the door. Wanting her to have a feeling of security while he was away, Bear had made a heavy wood bar that could be dropped across the door, making it impossible for someone to open it from the outside.
Bear entered the cabin, looking as big as a mountain and comfortingly familiar. Linsey did not like to admit even to herself that she waited eagerly for his return each evening. After several days of being left by herself, she had become accustomed to being alone, but as darkness descended, she was relieved by his return. The cabin was warm and cozy while he was in it but very lonely when he was gone.
Another thought worried Bear as he took off his coat and hung it on the hook beside the door. He liked coming home to her. Her smile always welcomed him, and the smells of something cooking awaited his arrival.
Evidence of her presence was everywhere. Her sewing lay on the table; her coat hung from a hook beside his. The shelf he had put up for her was slowly filling with her possessions.
He looked forward to coming home … to her. He liked it … he was afraid he was beginning to like it too much. He wanted to ask her to stay. To make a home with him in the wilderness. To be his wife, his friend, the mother of his children.
Spring would come, and he would take her back to the city. Bear closed his eyes at the knowledge of the loneliness waiting for him once she was gone. He had known such loneliness before when Snow had died, and vowed never again to depend on someone else. Somehow, without his consent or knowledge, Linsey had wedged herself into his life. And the suffering would not wait for spring.
“Are you hungry? What did you get today? Look at the baby’s dress; I’m almost finished with it. Can we — “
“Slow down, little one,” Bear said with a grin. “You begin to sound like Chattering Squirrel.”
Linsey blushed lightly, but grinned back at him. After a day by herself, she could barely wait for him to get inside the cabin before she started talking.
“To answer your first question, yes, I am starving.” He walked to the fire and bent, breathing deeply. The aroma of the thick rich stew filled his nostrils. “Now that you can make stew perfectly, I think it is time I taught you how to make something else.”
“Better not chance it. At least my stew is edible!”
Bear chuckled. “I’ll check everything you put in — just to make sure you don’t add the wrong herb.”
Linsey shivered at the thought of how close she had come to poisoning him. “Stick to the stew,” she advised.
Linsey cleared her sewing from the table and dished up their dinner while Bear washed from the pot of water she kept warm by the fire. They talked quietly while they ate, Bear telling of his day, she of hers.
During the evening, Bear worked on his furs. The new ones had to be cleaned of any lingering flesh before they were placed on stretchers. Linsey sat near him, finishing the baby gown.
“It’s almost done,” she said, holding up the gown for his inspection. “Do you think you could come home a little early tomorrow so that I can take it to Morning Moon?”
“Why do you not go yourself? The trail is clearly marked; you can’t get lost.” It was a test. Had she come to accept the Indians as friends, or did she still think of them as enemies?
“By myself?” Linsey stared at the gown as she felt a flicker of fear run through her. She wanted to lean against Bear, beg him to take her. They had gone twice to the village since their first visit, and each time she had been warmly welcomed. Could she go by herself, without the security of Bear?
“I guess I could,” she stammered.
“Nothing will happen to you, mon ange,” Bear said quietly. “You know the people now. They will welcome you.” He felt an almost overpowering urge to enfold her in his arms and chase away her fear. Clutching his knife tightly, he remained where he was. He wanted to hold her close to him. Much too often during the day, he found himself thinking of holding her, loving her through the long night. If he ever made her his, nothing on earth could force him to take her back in the spring. And staying had to be her decision.
Linsey ran her hand lightly over the velvet-soft gown and raised shadowed emerald eyes to him. “I’ll think about it,” she whispered. “It isn’t easy to change your thoughts about a group of people, and I’ve been terrified by Indians for so long.”
A muscle jumped in Bear’s jaw as he fought the urge to go to her. Trying to appear casual he nodded and returned to the fur in front of him. “I’ll try to get home earlier tomorrow.” He scraped on the hide for several minutes. “There are signs of another storm brewing. So I had planned not to work too far away.” He raised his head and grinned at her. “I don’t want to take the chance of catching another cold.”
Linsey carried the wrapped package by the thong that tied it closed. Wearing her own dress and cape, she carefully watched the trail in front of her so that she didn’t accidentally venture off and get lost. Since the night before, when Bear suggested she make the short trip alone, she had struggled to find the courage to go. The last thing she wanted to do was lose her way and wander alone into the vast wilderness.
Most of the snow from the blizzard had melted, leaving only small patches of white under trees where the sun did not reach. The last of the leaves had fallen, and skeletal branches stretched toward the sky as if searching for warmth. A light breeze rustled through the leaves and tugged at Linsey’s knotted hair, its cool caress a needless reminder of cold winter winds.
The path between Bear’s cabin and the Indian village had been used
for years and could not have been clearer had it been a cobbled Philadelphia road.
Linsey tried to keep her mind clear of thought as she followed the path. If she tried hard enough, she could pretend she was taking the shortcut through the woods that separated her Philadelphia home from that of her nearest neighbors. It was a path she had taken hundreds of times to visit with childhood friends.
“Ee kwdi wah!”
The silence was shattered by the harsh guttural words of the ugliest Indian Linsey had ever seen. His dirty, matted hair hung around narrow shoulders, and even from the distance still separating them, her nose easily detected his stench. His eyes narrowed appraisingly, and his evil smile showed missing teeth.
Linsey hugged the package to her breasts as he slowly approached her. Her first instinct was to turn and run, but she fought it, her chin raised proudly. She kept her eyes on him and tried to prevent herself from gagging when he stopped directly in front of her.
“I am the woman of Bear.” Her voice was strong and clear, showing no sign of the quiver lurking in her throat.
“Bear! Pfftt!” He spit in the dirt at her feet, showing all too clearly that he recognized the name and exactly what he thought.
He said unintelligible Shawnee words as he reached for her hair. His smile returned at her scream of pain as he wrapped his fingers hurtfully in the silken strands. His free hand pulled open the cape and tore at the neckline of her dress, grabbing harshly at the soft mounds he uncovered.
Linsey screamed again, twisting and turning, but his hold on her hair tightened, easily keeping her in place. When he plucked at a distended nipple, she kicked, her hard leather shoe catching him on the shin and making him grunt at the pain. He pulled back his hand from her breasts and hit her face with his closed fist.
Linsey reeled, nearly unconscious, but his hold on her hair prevented her from falling. He began pushing her down the trail, kicking at her when she stumbled, holding her up by the hair on her head.
LeClerc 01 - Autumn Ecstasy Page 13