My Savage Heart (The MacQuaid Brothers)

by Christine Dorsey

  Eighteen

  For an instant it seemed as if no one moved. As if they were all caught, frozen in time by the brush of some diabolical artist. Mary was kneeling beside the cradle, her face contorted by terror, her arms reaching for her child... reaching yet unable to touch. Tal-tsuska stood, his entire body smeared with paint—red, black, horrifying colors that made him appear an escapee from hell looming, superimposed on the swarm of similar monsters who filled the doorway.

  If there was sound, Caroline couldn’t hear it. Fear overpowered everything. Except smell. All around her there was still the fragrance of fresh-baked bread, but now the scent was sharp, unpleasant.

  Then like a sudden summer thunderstorm, upon her before she could seek shelter, reality crashed about her. Shrieks and screams sent shivers down her spine, overwhelmed her after the silence.

  They were everywhere, exploding into the kitchen, despoiling it. How she heard her name above the din, Caroline didn’t know, but she whirled to see a Cherokee grab Mary up to his chest. Caroline flung herself at the warrior. Her fingers dug into his skin. When he turned on her, his expression was a mask of disgust and annoyance. With a grunt he jerked his arm from her grasp. Then lifted his hand above her head.

  It happened so quickly, there was no time to escape. Caroline saw the silvery glint of the tomahawk poised above her and sucked in her last breath, a vision of Wolf in her mind. But the final kiss of steel never came.

  Something hard wrapped about her waist, forcing air from her body as she was hauled back. “No,” her savior... her tormentor, yelled. “This one is mine.”

  She was dragged outside, her last glimpse of Mary one of despair as her friend collapsed onto the brick floor.

  Struggling was useless but she did it anyway, kicking and scratching, biting as Tal-tsuska tried to subdue her. Somewhere in the back of her mind was the glimmer of truth that he could stop her vain attempts to hurt him with a single blow. But he didn’t. Not that he was gentle with her by any means.

  His hands were hard as he yanked her arms behind her. Tears streamed down Caroline’s face when the rawhide strips wound around her wrists, not because of the pain, though there was that, but because she was now truly helpless. To help herself, to help Mary and Colleen, to help her brother.

  “Just do it,” she yelled at her captor. “Just kill me, too.”

  As soon as the words, borne of desperation, escaped her, she was shoved down hard. Pain ripped through her hip as she went sprawling on the frozen ground. Tal-tsuska bent over her then, clutching her hair savagely. Wooden pins scattered on the frosty earth.

  “You wish death,” he said, his face contorted by his sneer. From his leggings he drew a knife and slid it against the edge of her scalp. “This is what you prefer, English woman?” His fingers tightened, the cold blade burned her flesh, and Caroline’s breath tore from her in a frantic sob. His tone softened. “If that is the case, you are not the fighter I took you for.”

  “Besides,” he said as he slipped the knife back into its sheath. “It is not my wish that you die now.” With that he yanked her to her feet.

  As she was dragged away from the house, Caroline twisted her head, searching frantically for some sign of the others. She could see neither Mary nor Ned, and then the thick smoke billowing from the house obscured her view.

  Wolf saw the smoke from the ridge above the fork in the river. He wasted no time trying to convince himself that it was anything other than Seven Pines that burned. He was too late.

  His pace didn’t quicken with the knowledge, he already ran as fast as he could. He had been since early this morning. That’s when he finally managed to untie his hands and overwhelm the man left to guard him. Wolf splashed through a stream, then crashed through the thicket of trees on the shore. He should be angry with her for leaving the fort. For placing herself in this danger, but he couldn’t summon that emotion.

  It was fear, true, uncontrollable fear that consumed him. Not since he was a boy and was dragged from his mother’s arms did the bitter pill taste so foul. What would he do if she were dead? Could he live with himself then, without her? With the knowledge that he’d helped push her to her death.

  He couldn’t erase the expression on her face when he insisted upon knowing who fathered her child. She’d hated him then... and he’d hated himself. Branches tore at his clothing and flesh, but he paid them no heed as he climbed a hillock, then leaped across the gully at its foot.

  He didn’t care whose child it was she carried. She was his. Deep in his heart he’d known that from the moment he first saw her. But being the fool he was, he risked everything. Using her. Giving her to the one man whom he hated above all else.

  His stupid hatred.

  His foolish right to revenge.

  Wolf vaulted over a fallen tree, his moccasined feet slamming into the leaf-covered soil with each long stride. She’d fled not only smallpox, but him. From his questions and scorn. And all the while, it was his fault. If she carried his father’s baby, was she to blame? She who’d been willing to go with him, to live the life of a half-blood’s woman, rather than forsake him. Whatever happened to her at his father’s hands was his own blame to bear. And for the rest of his life, he would.

  As Wolf neared the clearing, he broke stride only long enough to shift the rifle from his shoulder. The smell of smoke was stronger now, acrid, burning his eyes and filling him with despair. He thought he could go no faster, but now his pace quickened, covering the ground so quickly the leafless trees seemed to rush past him in a blur.

  He burst through the last stand of birch trees into the clearing. And then be stopped, his energy spent as he viewed the scene before him. The house was no more than a smoldering shell, the chimneys standing starkly above the smoking rubble.

  He should investigate, sift through the charred boards. Look for the remains. But he couldn’t make himself move. An eerie quiet surrounded the place, and it briefly occurred to him that Tal-tsuska and his band might still be about. But even that possibility couldn’t budge him. He just stood, his blood pounding in his ears, his life seemingly slipping away. Until he heard a whimper.

  “Caroline?” He wasn’t sure if he spoke her name until the word echoed back at him. Then he was running, pounding through the brush and brambles on the far side of the clearing.

  Wolf paid no heed to the gun Edward swung up when he thundered into the small hole in the thicket they used as a hiding place. The boy cradled a woman. Her head was bloody and her body limp, and Wolf fell to his knees beside her. “Caroline.” The word was torn from him on a sob.

  “It’s Mary,” Edward said, and as Wolf gently brushed blood-encrusted hair from her face, he could see it was true. She had an open wound on the side of her head. She was still alive though each breath was shallow and hard-fought. “I can’t find Caro anywhere.”

  Wolf forced his attention to the boy. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” He sniffed, and Wolf could see he was doing his best not to break down in front of him. Reaching out, Wolf grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. “I was hunting down by the river. I didn’t know anything had happened till I saw the place burning. By the time I got back...” He did break down then, sucking in his breath and sobbing uncontrollably. “I should have been here. Maybe I could have stopped them.” Giant tears streamed down his face.

  Wolf’s heart went out to him, but there was no time for sympathy, and he didn’t think that’s what Edward needed right now. “Do not be a fool. If you had been here, you’d be dead now. When you live on the frontier, you have to learn to accept...” Wolf’s voice trailed off. Accept what? Death? He looked down at the woman lying in Edward’s arms and swallowed. She’d been kind to him from the moment he first met her, and he loved her like a sister. How could anyone ever accept this?

  “Where’s her baby?”

  Edward shook his head. He was trying his best to regain control though this new question seemed as if it might break his resolve. But his voice was firm. �
��I buried her up on the hill. Mary had managed to crawl outside with Colleen, but she was... Caro told me Colleen was sickly,” he added, glancing up at Wolf hopefully. “Do you think that might have been why she died? She had no marks on her.”

  Wolf nodded and squeezed the boy’s shoulder again before pushing to his feet.

  “Where are you going?” Edward’s voice held a note of panic.

  “Just to look around a bit. I’ll be right back.”

  He couldn’t get away fast enough, but Wolf forced himself to move slowly. He thought he was used to this... to death, but his knees felt weak, and his stomach churned. His heart ached.

  Searching through the burned rubble of Seven Pines for Caroline’s charred body was the hardest thing he ever did. But he moved slowly, methodically, and he forced himself not to think beyond what he might find. For if she wasn’t here, then Tal-tsuska had taken her and he would go after them and find her... and kill Tal-tsuska.

  “Mr. MacQuaid! Raff!”

  Dropping a burnt timber, Wolf raced back to the bushes when he heard Edward’s call.

  “She’s awake,” he said, excitedly, still holding Mary in his arms.

  When Wolf dropped to his knees and took her hand, Mary’s gaze focused on him. She tried to smile, though her voice was raspy when she said his name. “Tell Logan...” she began, and Wolf touched her cheek.

  “I will. I’ll tell him.”

  “I love him.”

  “He knows. He loves you, too.” Wolf wasn’t sure he spoke the truth, but at this point he would lie to the devil himself to make Mary feel better.

  Tears formed in her eyes and rolled down into her bloody hair. “I couldn’t save my baby. I tried,” she sobbed.

  “Shhh.” Wolf brushed away the tears with the back of his fingers. “Don’t upset yourself. Just rest.”

  “No. I need to tell you.” She took a breath and Wolf could hear the too-familiar death rattle. “They took Caroline. You have to find...” Her words trailed off.

  “I will, Mary. I’ll find her.” Wolf’s heart was pounding so hard, he almost missed her next words.

  “She loves you, Raff. Loves you...”

  “Mary? Mary.”

  Edward looked up at him, his expression anxious. “Do you think she went back to sleep?”

  Wolf shook his head slowly, then pressed his hand over her chest to confirm what he already knew. Taking a deep breath, he pushed to his feet. His heart was sad, but his mind was racing ahead to Caroline. Where had Tal-tsuska taken her?

  “Are you sure? Are you sure Mary’s dead?”

  Reaching down, Wolf pulled Edward to his feet. “You did all you could for her.”

  “But—”

  “Edward.” Wolf said the word sharply, gratified when the boy snapped his head up. “We have some things to take care of—quickly. Then we have to go. I’m taking you back to the fort, then—”

  “No.” Edward stood as tall as he could. “No, sir, you’re not. Do you think I didn’t hear what Mary said? They have my sister, and I’m going with you to find her.”

  Caroline wouldn’t like it. When he found her, she’d probably chew his hide raw for allowing her brother to be put in more danger. But Wolf couldn’t deny the fire in Edward’s eyes. If he didn’t take Edward with him, the damn kid would probably set out on his own.

  “All right then. But you are going to have to keep up and do exactly as I say.”

  They buried Mary in the family plot beside her infant daughter. At Edward’s prompting, Wolf said a few words over the grave. It took them all of a quarter of an hour, and Wolf felt guilty for begrudging even those few moments. He chaffed to be underway. To find Caroline.

  She forced herself to keep up. For as tired and uncomfortable as she was, the periods of rest were worse. That’s when she had to listen to Tal-tsuska’s taunts.

  “Wa`ya will not come for you,” he told her repeatedly. “He is my prisoner. And if he tries to escape, he will die.”

  At least when she concentrated on walking, she could keep that and the rest of her fears at bay. Mary. Baby Colleen. Ned. What had happened to them? And were Tal-tsuska’s words about Wolf true? Was he a prisoner, or dead as she feared the others were? Was she alone, the only survivor? And if that were the case, did she even care?

  Caroline took a deep breath and realized her ploy to keep from thinking wasn’t working any more. Exhausted as she was, forced to traverse the rough trail at a rapid pace, she still could think and worry.

  “We rest here.” Tal-tsuska grabbed her arm, and Caroline realized the others had stopped. She sank to her knees, then eased to sitting. Her hands were tied in front of her, the rawhide wrapped around her neck. Gratefully, she bent her legs then dropped her forehead to her knees, blotting out the scene about her.

  “You should have said you were tired.”

  Caroline didn’t look up, but she knew her captor was near. “Would it have mattered?” Caroline felt his hand on her and jerked away, but he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him.

  “It will do no good to fight me.”

  Caroline said nothing, only glared at him.

  “Do you hear me, white woman?”

  “I hear the pounding of footsteps as the king’s soldiers hunt you down.” She anticipated the blow, but even though she’d steeled herself, the force still knocked her over. She lay on the hard ground, tasting her own blood and shut her eyes.

  “I will break you, English woman. Then you will be mine.”

  They rested for only a short time. Caroline tried to sleep, to rid her mind of reality, but even that relief wasn’t within her grasp. As soon as she began to drift off, she was jerked to her feet.

  By nightfall the temperature had dropped. Where before the cold had kept her alert, now her feet and hands were numb, and she couldn’t stop shivering. Still, when they stopped for the night, Caroline’s heart sank when a campfire was built. Even as the flames licked over the wood, offering her some relief from the cold, her heart froze. Tal-tsuska wouldn’t chance their smoke being spotted if there was any possibility someone might be following them.

  Hopelessness washed over her when Tal-tsuska untied her hands. The thong remained about her neck.

  “Sit,” he commanded after spreading a blanket near the fire’s warmth. When she hesitated, he settled his hand over her shoulder and pushed. “It will do no good to defy me, white woman. I have time. You are smart. You will see the wisdom of doing as you are told.”

  She wanted to scream at him that she would never, ever do anything but resist him. But she was so tired. When she finally spoke, her tone sounded no more than annoyed. “Why do you take this trouble with me, Tal-tsuska? Wouldn’t it be easier to simply kill me?”

  “Easier for who?” he said, dropping to the blanket beside her. “For you perhaps, but I find you worth the effort, white woman.”

  Trying to pull away only made him chuckle. And tighten his hold on the tether about her neck. “You did not turn from the touch of Wa`ya did you, white woman? Was it his English blood that made the difference?”

  “No.” Caroline stared at him and her eyes glittered in the flickering firelight. “It is the English blood that stains your hands.”

  He pushed her back on the blanket then, and Caroline tried to prepare herself for what was to come. But he left her alone, rising to his feet and seeming to melt into the woods that surrounded them. Another Cherokee, whom she didn’t know, took his place beside her, wrapping the end of the rawhide thong around his wrist. But he neither spoke to nor touched her, and eventually she drifted into a troubled sleep.

  When she woke a blanket covered her and light snow swirled through the morning air. She chewed on the dried deer meat she was given, grateful for something to eat. Sometime during the night, she realized her survival depended upon her. And it wasn’t just her survival. She must think of her child... Wolf’s child. It was up to her to protect them both.

  So she ate what Tal-tsuska gave her, forcing her stoma
ch to stop rebelling against the unfamiliar taste. She accepted the blanket he threw about her shoulders, resisting the urge to toss it to the ground in a show of contempt. She would escape. Caroline knew that. It was only a question of when. Until then she would pretend compliance.

  They traveled north and west over terrain that gradually grew more mountainous. There were seven Indians, but no one spoke to her except Tal-tsuska. It seemed as if she were his personal responsibility... his personal property. He fed her, walked beside her, tugged on her bindings if she slowed her pace. Slept beside her. This last was the most unnerving, though as yet he had done nothing but share her blanket.

  And he talked to her. Of the mighty defeat the Cherokee would inflict upon the English. Of the departure of the hated white man from his land. Of his dislike of Wa`ya, the son of the treacherous trader.

  “If you despise us so, I don’t see why you insist upon dragging me with you,” Caroline said as they trudged through a mountain pass.

  “You are still of a mind that I should kill you?” When Caroline didn’t answer, he continued. “You, I shall keep as a reminder of all we have overcome. I will look at you and remember that you were the lying one’s wife, that you were his son’s woman. That I have you now, long after they have gone to the ‘darkening land.’”

  After two days, they reached a Cherokee town, smaller than Keowee. Catherine didn’t know for sure where she was, for Tal-tsuska refused to tell her their destination. However, by piecing together the things Wolf had told her, she imagined they had traveled to one of the Middle Towns.

  Even though she could understand little of what was said, it was obvious Tal-tsuska was treated as a returning hero. And that she was looked upon with scorn. If she hoped for any help from this quarter, she soon realized it would not be forthcoming. The women yelled at her, some of them leaping forward and shaking their fists in her face as Tal-tsuska lead her into the town.

  The cabin he put her in was small and illkept. The mats on the packed earth floor were dirty. Caroline shook them out, then looked around. Even though it was only late afternoon, the interior was dark. The only light came from rays of weak winter sun that slanted through the chinks between the logs and the smoke hole in the center of the roof.