"Indians claim the wind is alive. They say they can see it."
"Aye, I've heard that tale myself. But if they can see it, it must have a color. Did she say what color the wind was?"
"Red."
"I see."
"You don't believe me."
"I know little of redmen, or redwomen for that matter. Mari sounds a strange sort."
"Only if you don't know her. She isn't strange to me. She's been half mother, half friend to me all my life." Ashley unconsciously reined the mare closer to Kelt's horse. "She has her own ways, Mari has. That I'll admit. All the years she's lived on Morgan's Fancy haven't changed her Indian beliefs one iota."
"You said she wasna a servant. What exactly is she?"
"She was my grandfather's woman."
"Nae his legal wife?" Kelt couldn't quite keep the shock from his voice. "I wouldna think such a woman a fit companion for an innocent young girl."
"A better companion than my lady mother." Ashley slapped the reins against the mare's neck, urging her into a trot. "He would have made her his wife any time, right up until the day he died, but she wouldn't have it. She said the white men made slaves of their wives. Ash was good to her, but if she'd married him, maybe he'd have changed like all the rest. She preferred to keep her freedom and her own home. He built her a cabin and deeded a hundred acres of land to her. It still stands, right in the center of the plantation."
"And ye dinna begrudge her any of your precious land?"
"You don't understand, Kelt." Ashley's voice cracked. "I'd give Mari a thousand acres if she wanted it. She's the closest person to a real mother I ever had." A cedar leaning over the trail brushed against her leg. "Pull up," she said. "We leave the animals here."
They tied the horses to a branch and Ashley led the way down a faint path, feeling her way step by step. "No more talking," she warned. "And be careful with your musket. I don't care to be shot in the back or to have you shoot my dog."
"Do ye think me such a fool?" he snapped back. "Mind your own weapon and I'll mind mine."
"Quiet, you'll scare the geese," she whispered. "You talk more than any man I've ever known."
They walked in silence for several hundred yards until Ashley felt the ground begin to soften. She felt for a fallen log, warning Kelt when her right foot touched it. "Watch your step."
The blind wasn't far now. She didn't need light to find it; she'd been here too many times. She moved the heavy musket to rest in the crook of her left arm and reached back to catch Kelt's hand. It closed on hers with a confident grip that made her pulse quicken.
She swallowed hard and prayed her voice would betray none of the strangeness she felt. "Careful. There's a log bridge to cross. It's narrow and the river too cold to swim in this time of year." She forced a laugh. "I know because I tumbled in one morning and ruined my grandfather's duck hunting. They had to fetch me home to thaw me out."
"As much trouble as ye must have been to him, it's a wonder he didna let you drown."
"Here's the beginning." Ashley freed her hand, warm and tingling from his touch.
The first promise of dawn was beginning to illuminate the eastern horizon. The duck blind was a faint outline against the darker shadow of the water ahead of her. The structure had been built on cedar posts set deep in the riverbed, accessible by a log walkway over the water. Nervously Ashley stepped onto the log, placing each foot with care. Normally she could have run across the makeshift bridge with her eyes blindfolded, but Kelt's presence behind her made her oddly unsteady on her feet.
"Jai," she whispered. "Come on, boy." She could hear the soft padding of the dog's feet and the rhythm of Kelt's steady breathing behind her.
Gratefully Ashley took hold of the sturdy support on the corner of the blind and stepped inside. The cedar post and reed structure was a good eight feet square with a woven reed roof over the back two thirds. The front wall of the blind, facing the river, was only waist high to give the occupants room to shoot. It had been freshly repaired just that fall, and the floor was ankle-deep in fresh hay. Ashley leaned her musket against the far wall and sat down on the bench. Jai curled up at her feet. Absently she patted his head. "He'll fetch the geese in for us," she said.
Kelt put his gun down and crouched on the other side of the blind. "Nice," he offered.
"The hay's to keep your feet from freezing. Goose hunting's cold sport."
"Aye." He pulled a piece of hay from the floor and sucked on it. "I allow a lass would think that."
Ashley bit back a stinging retort and turned to look out at the mist-covered river. Even in winter, the river teemed with bird and animal life. She willed herself to push the Scot from her thoughts and let the peace of this quiet place seep through her. The rippling of the tide beneath the blind was curiously soothing. Even the echoing splash of a muskrat blended with the mournful cry of the geese winging overhead to play out a wilderness symphony.
Now Ashley remembered why she liked to rise in the blackness of the night and come here. There was something almost mystical about the river in winter, something indefinable. A quick glance might give a stranger reason to believe that the scene was cold and barren. But she didn't see it that way. To her, there was a sense of waiting, a promise of the full bursting of life that would come again in the spring.
Sitting here in the dark, waiting for the sun to come up over the trees, was like waiting for the creation. Ashley knew the light would come, but still she watched with bated breath for each ray of shimmering light. The magic had never failed to work. The sun always rose.
This morning was no exception. Iridescent coral and gold spilled across the cloud-strewn sky, so beautiful that Ashley caught her breath in wonder. By almost imperceptible degrees the blind and the river became more visible. The far bank was still shrouded in mist, but she could make out the puffy black and white heads of a pair of buffleheads swimming a few yards from the blind and a larger group of black ducks feeding just beyond them.
"Ashley."
It took a second to remember she was not alone in the blind. She exhaled sharply. Kelt was standing barely an arm's length away, his eyes fixed on her face. A strange note in his voice sent a wave of excitement surging through her.
"You're a bonny sight fer a mon, with the light playin' across all that hair."
Ashley's breath caught in her throat as she stared up at him. The light was dim at the back of the blind, and Kelt's face was shadowed. He's going to kiss me, she thought. And I'm going to let him. With the patience of Eve, she waited... knowing, anticipating the feel of that masculine mouth pressed warm and firm against her lips.
"I want to kiss ye," he murmured. "Only kiss ye... nothing more."
Trembling, she rose and took a step in Kelt's direction. An unfamiliar weakness flowed through her limbs as she stared up at the big man. Run! her inner voice cried. Stop before it's too late. His arms encircled her as he lowered his head to gently brush her lips with his.
Ashley slipped her arms around Kelt's neck, savoring the warm pressure of his mouth against hers, reveling in the strong, male scent of his hard-muscled body and the exquisite sensation of his broad hand pressed against the small of her back. A bittersweet ache grew in her breasts as they pressed against his chest, and her lips parted of their own volition, allowing his tender, exploring kiss to deepen.
Time stood still as she strained against him, nearly overcome by the hot, tingling desire that raced through her veins. Her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him still closer until suddenly, with a shuddering breath, Kelt released her and stepped back.
"Ashley," he murmured hoarsely. He laughed deep in his throat. "By all that's holy, lassie, 'twas stop now or not at all."
Shaken, Ashley touched her passion-swollen lips as the unfamiliar sensations slowly receded, leaving her breathless and weak-kneed. Slowly she lowered herself to the bench and smiled. "Thank you," she whispered.
"For stopping or for the kiss?" He ran a hand through his hair. "I'd nae har
m ye. I didna mean for..."
"For the kiss." She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. "Every woman should be kissed like that at least once in her life."
"And you haven't?"
Ashley shook her head. "Never." She sighed deeply and smiled shyly. "For a wild Highlander, you have a gentle touch."
Kelt reached out to touch a curling tendril of auburn hair that fell across her forehead. "I'm no thief. I'll nae take what's not offered freely or mine by right."
She nodded solemnly. "You are a dangerous man, Kelt Saxon." What power did he have over her that he could cause these new and disturbing emotions with a kiss? Was it Kelt or her own weakness? No matter which, she needed time to think and she couldn't think clearly with him so close.
Ashley forced her voice to a semblance of normality. "Come, Jai." She motioned to the dog. "The geese have had a reprieve," she said huskily. "I find I'm in no mood for killing this morning."
"Nor I," Kelt agreed readily. He handed Ashley's musket to her. "The bondmen can get by on pork and cornbread for a few more days."
Ashley nodded. "As long as it's not Joan's."
He laid a big hand on her shoulder. "I canna promise that what happened here won't happen again."
She pulled away and led the way from the blind. If it does, I must find a way to deal with it, she thought.
They made their way back to the tied horses and returned to the manor house in mutual silence.
* * *
Ashley walked around the frame of the new barn with pride. With the tobacco shipped, Kelt had been free to use field hands as well as the plantation craftsmen to work on the construction these past weeks. Precious time had been saved when they were able to trade the sheep and some cows to a neighbor for seasoned lumber. Kelt had borrowed ten men from Martin Hopkins at Canterbury to help raise the walls and cross beams. Kelt had assured her he knew a little about construction, and she was well pleased with the results. When the last of the shingles were nailed down, they could start moving the horses into the spacious stalls.
It would be a long time before she'd stop looking from her bedchamber window for the old barn—old Ash Morgan's barn. Would she always think of this new one as Kelt Saxon's? The men called it that. "The Scot's barn," they said. In fairness, she had to admit it was larger and safer than the one they had lost by fire; each box stall now had an outside door as well as a gate to the center hall. The plan had required extra hinges at a time when iron was precious, but the Scot had convinced the master carpenter that it was worth the expense.
"One blood horse lost would be more than the cost of the hardware," he'd insisted.
Reluctantly Ashley had dug into the small box of coins she kept in the library beneath the loose brick in the hearth. Kelt was right. The livestock was the life's blood of Morgan's Fancy. They couldn't afford to lose a single animal.
"Are ye satisfied?" Kelt handed the armful of cedar shingles to a workman and dusted off his hands. "I thought to stable the beasts here tonight."
"With only half the roof done?" Ashley met his intense gray eyes without flinching. She hadn't actually avoided him since that morning in the duck blind, but she had wanted to keep her distance; it would have been far easier. But she couldn't give him the satisfaction of letting him know how deeply she had been shaken by a single kiss.
"They'll finish or I'll know the reason why. Look at that sky." He motioned toward the west. "We'll have snow before morning or I'll miss my guess. It's gotten colder in the last hour."
"It would suit me if it snowed two feet and the bay froze over. We'd have less to fear from raiders if there was ice to hold back the ships."
"Aye. There's much we should talk about, Ashley." His brow creased in genuine concern. "Word from Chestertown is that murder's been done on the Eastern Shore. A house was burned and stock slaughtered."
"How many dead?"
"Two men and a child. Four slaves and a woman are missing," he said. "Pirates, 'tis believed. They came by water and left that way."
"They're certain it wasn't a slave uprising?" Mentally, Ashley began to count the flintlocks, wheel locks and other weapons belonging to Morgan's Fancy. She'd break the law and arm her bondmen if necessary.
"Nay." The Scot shook his head. "The evidence was plain enough. They came to steal slaves and whatever else they could carry off." No need to mention that the missing woman was only nineteen and big with child, or that her husband's head had been nearly hacked off with a cutlass.
Ashley's face paled and her lips tightened. "Brave men to murder a child." She pushed back the icicle of fear that formed within her. "Human vermin," she murmured. "How did the child die?"
Kelt exhaled and turned away. "Leave it, lass. Dead is dead. No need to fash yerself."
"Do you think I'm a child that you must keep things from me? I've seen death before. It's ugly and senseless, but it will be none the less for my knowing the truth." Ashley's eyes darkened with rising anger. "Who was it? What plantation?" Kelt shook his head stubbornly. Ashley whirled on the man standing just beyond Saxon. "Joshua? Who was murdered?"
Joshua scratched his chin and mumbled under his breath.
"Who? I can't hear you."
"Martin Briggs and his brother John from Swan Point." He looked sheepishly at Kelt. "I can't rightly go agin' the mistress, sir."
"The child?" Ashley asked softly.
"Martin Briggs's young'n. Don't rightly know his name, but 'twas a boy."
"They came to buy a milk cow of me last spring." Ashley clenched her trembling hands into fists, locking them against her sides. "He was a babe in arms."
"He was in his cradle when they set the house afire," Joshua said. "Poor little tyke never had a chance."
"Damn you, man!" Kelt swore. "Have you no more sense than a—"
"I asked him, Saxon," Ashley snapped. "Do you think I'm too frail to hear the truth?" Her stomach lurched as she remembered the blond-haired babe she'd held in her arms. Whoever the raiders were, it couldn't be any of Gentleman Jim's men. A pirate he might be, but he had an honorable name with women. He'd never been known to harm one. "Damn." The missing woman had to be Martin's wife, Jane. Ashley turned and walked quickly to where a stableboy waited with her horse. She needed to be alone, to have time to think. An image of the baby's chubby face hovered just behind her eyes. She stopped and glared back at Kelt. "When was the attack?"
"Two days ago." He took a step toward her. "We should make plans for setting a guard around the plantation. And..." Kelt's jaw was set as though carved in granite. "I think you should stay close to the house for a few days."
"I'm certain you would, Master Saxon." Ashley put her foot in the stirrup and swung up onto the bay stallion. "This is my land and my people," she said hotly. "I'll not skulk about like a craven because of a few human scavengers. Let them set foot on Morgan's Fancy, and they may get more than they bargained for." With a firm hand on the reins, she pulled the horse's head around and set her heels into his flanks. "Ha!" she urged. Horse and rider crossed the farmyard and headed toward the prize house.
Cursing women, horses, and Mary landers in general, Kelt mounted his dappled-gray and galloped after her, leaving the workers mumbling among themselves behind him.
Joshua glanced in Short John's direction and spat onto the hard-packed dirt floor. "Them two..." he ventured. "Them two is somethin' else."
Short John made an obscene gesture and dropped the hammer. From a pocket beneath his leather apron he pulled a tin flask and took a long swig. Smacking his lips, he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and offered the flask to Joshua.
The older man scratched the salt and pepper stubble on his head and frowned. "Scot's gonna smell it on yer breath, way you been suckin' it in. Take the hide offen yer back, he will!" He shook his head. "Not me. Roof's too high. I'm layin' shakes, I don't drink none. Not me. Knew a fella once, fell offen a roof." Joshua paused for effect and blew his nose between his fingers. "Broke ever' bone in his body. Just like a je
llyfish, he was. Lived fifteen year like that. Had to be carried ever'where in a sack like a papoose. S'God's truth. Seed him wi' my own eyes."
"Bull."
Edgar laughed as he came down the ladder. "Thought you said that fella buried his legs so far in the ground they had to cut 'em out." He reached for Short John's flask and took a nip. "Got to keep your stories straight, Joshua. What about the little cart you said his woman pulled him around in?"
"That was another fella, in London, close by the bridge. This fella was a Welshman, fell off a church. Broke ever' bone in his body. Swear to God!"
Edgar leaned against the ladder and peered up at the sun. "Close on to noonin', wouldn't you think? My belly's bangin' against my backbone."
"Yer belly's alway's clammerin'," Joshua protested. "It ain't time for quittin' yet. He'll be back here wantin' to know why it ain't done, and I'll ketch hell. You got another hour to go before dinner, Edgar, and well you know it."
"Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but my woman's waitin' fer me. I've a mind to get some of what thet overseer's gettin' afore my dinner." Short John leered suggestively.
"Hold yer tongue," Joshua threatened. "There's no cause to talk dirty about the mistress." He reached for his hammer and tossed it meaningfully from one hand to another. "She's different, I'll grant ye that, but she ain't no whore. Mistress Ashley's a lady. Don't ye be fergettin' it."
Short John scoffed. "A lady? A apple don't fall far from the tree to my way o' thinkin'." He winked at Edgar. "A lady ain't what you'd call her mother, is it?" He sipped at the rum again. "Put a sow in silk, she's still what she is."
Joshua took a step in Short John's direction and his eyes narrowed in warning. "Enough. Git back to work, all of ye."
"Iffen she's sech a lady, how come she's got the same name as her mother's people? And how come the new overseer sleeps under her roof?" Short John laughed and shrugged. "You bang cedar shakes if ye want to. I'm off to take some sweet between my woman's thighs."
* * *
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