“Certainly. Is something wrong?”
“Maybe. Three men came by the fort yesterday. I didn’t like the looks of them from the beginning. They said they were looking for Sam and wanted directions to his place. When I asked them why they needed to speak with the Captain, a man named Dixon said they were friends of your brother. They’d traveled here all the way from New Hampshire to speak to him about selling his land back home. Against my better judgment, I gave them directions to Sam’s place.”
“Hmph,” Stephen snorted. Sam would never sell that land. The mountain held the bodies of their parents and only sister after an enormous mountain slide covered their entire childhood home. People in the area soon took to calling it Wyllie Mountain. Sam, as the oldest son, inherited the property. However, he never did anything with it, choosing to let the land be a serene resting place for their lost family members. “I’m sure they came all this way for nothing, but why is that cause for concern?”
“Because men don’t travel a thousand miles just to buy a piece of land. There must be another reason.”
“Indeed,” Stephen agreed. “What reason did they give?”
“That they wanted to buy the mountain to quarry stone.”
“Now that last part does sound suspicious. Sam’s mountain is mostly stone, but there’s rock to quarry all over the state. He would have told them no flat out. The mountain holds special significance to our family. He’d never sell it and he would have told them so in no uncertain terms.”
“Knowing the Captain, I’d have to agree. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who would be indecisive or hesitate to say what he thinks.”
“True enough.” Stephen let out a long sigh. This was all vaguely disturbing. “Why would they come all this way? They could have sent a letter expressing their interest in acquiring the site.”
“That’s what I wondered,” the Colonel agreed. “It’s a long way just to buy a piece of property.”
Stephen shifted Samuel to his other side, letting the boy’s head rest on his shoulder. His son grew heavier by the day. “Colonel, you met these men. Do you think I should go to Sam’s right away to be sure all is well?”
“Well,” the Colonel rubbed the back of his neck as he considered Stephen’s question. “After many years in the military and politics, I’ve become a decent judge of character. And something about those men bothers me all the way to the soles of my boots.”
“Then I’ll go.”
“Your family is welcome to stay here if need be. I’ll find quarters for them.”
“No, we were going to Sam’s anyway in a few days for a Christmas visit. I’ll just move our visit up. We’ll leave for home now, then leave for Sam’s first thing in the morning. With the girls, I don’t want to spend the night out in the open.”
“Do you want me to send a couple of my militia along with you?”
“No. Jane and I both have our rifles and pistols with us. She’s an excellent shot, by the way. And Sam has four hired hands at his farm,” Stephen answered. “Tell me what these men look like and their names.”
As the Colonel finished answering, the door to the bakery opened and Martha poked her head out. “Father, we made our choices. Can you come pay for them please?”
“I’ll be right there,” he answered. “Thank you Colonel. I appreciate your concern for my family.”
“You and your brothers are all fine men. We need more like you here in the wilderness. Will Bear be going to Sam’s for Christmas too?”
“Indeed. And William and his family as well.”
“It sounds like you’ll have a joyous holiday. I hope I get a chance to see Bear again and ask him about the Governor’s meeting I sent him to in Boonesborough.”
“I’m sure Bear will want to thank you whole-heartedly. Sending him there was fortuitous—he met his new wife Artis in Boonesborough. He’s bringing her to meet all of us.”
The Colonel laughed and slapped a hand against his long leg. “When he was here last, Bear told me he was setting out to find a bride. By God he did it!”
“I think it actually was the good Lord’s doing. Bear wrote us that she’s from Scotland too and he seems exceedingly happy,” Stephen said.
“I’ll look forward to meeting her. I’m anxious to meet William as well. His excellent reputation as sheriff of Boonesborough precedes him.”
“Will you be at the Twelfth Day horse race?” Stephen asked.
“No, my duties here prevent my attending.”
“I plan to enter my stallion in the race. I’m sure Bear and William will come along to cheer me on. Sam may not be able to come if Catherine has not yet delivered.”
“You’re entering this big black?” The Colonel ran a hand over George’s hip.
“Yes, that’s George.” Stephen couldn’t help smiling proudly.
“He’s a handsome fellow. Exceptional. Perhaps I’ll bring a mare to you for breeding.”
“Father!” Polly called out impatiently, her brows and lips pinched together.
“I see you’re urgently needed elsewhere,” the Colonel said, smiling. Then his face turned serious. “Stephen, I hope I’m wrong about those men.”
“I hope you are too.”
Chapter 9
Boonesborough, Monday, 19 December, 1799
Carrying his bag of medicines and surgeon’s instruments, Rory McGuffin blew out the oil lamp and locked the door to Boonesborough’s apothecary, glad to see the day finally end.
Rory never thought he would practice medicine again, but when Doc McDowell asked for his help, he simply couldn’t refuse. He enjoyed helping people—it was why he’d become a doctor in the first place. He spent a few weeks with McDowell, brushing up on the latest theories and techniques, but soon learned his excellent medical education was still well-founded.
In truth, it felt good to be needed and use the skills that took him years to acquire. Just today, among other things, he’d pulled an abscessed tooth, lanced a boil, treated a snakebite, and set a little boy’s broken wrist. What would these people have done if he hadn’t agreed to cover for the town’s doctor every other week while McDowell treated his patients in Lexington. They surely would have all suffered needlessly.
He’d set those skills aside for an extremely long time—ever since the last patient he lost on the battlefield—his brother’s son. Only when Bear’s wife Artis would have died if he hadn’t helped her did he finally reveal to everyone that he served as a surgeon during the Revolution. For more years than he wanted to remember, he’d treated every conceivable battle wound and illness of the soldiers and camp followers.
After the war, never wanting to see one of his patients die again, Rory became a trapper, living with his wife and daughter in a modest cabin on Shenandoah Mountain. He’d enjoyed the solitude of trapping, but then Kelly’s mother died while he was on one of his hunting trips. Another tragic death on his hands. If only he had been there. The loss of his beloved wife was nearly the end of him as he sought to ease his pain with strong liquor. It was Kelly who had suffered the most though. He had given up on life and on Kelly when she needed him the most.
But later, when he came close to losing Kelly, he begged her forgiveness. Kelly gave it, willingly and lovingly. And now it seemed as though his heart may have finally healed enough to put his skills to good use again.
“Good evening Dr. McGuffin,” Lucky McGintey called from atop his horse. “Calling it a day?” The aging longhunter eased his mount, and the packhorse he led, loaded with today’s kills, closer to the apothecary. The man was dressed in buckskins and tall moccasins, much like Sam always was. His back and shoulders slumped, Lucky appeared tired. Despite his age, he continued to hunt every single day, supplying fresh meat for the settlement.
“Indeed, I am calling it a day,” he answered, rubbing the back of his neck. “This day has made me feel my age. Lately, I wake up feeling a month older instead of a day older.”
“I know exactly what you mean!” Lucky said ca
ckling. “But here’s what I think. You’re only as old as your attitude, not your body. So I keep on smiling and keep putting my old foot in the stirrup. When God’s ready to take me home, I’ll go, but until then, I’m going to enjoy life if it kills me.”
Rory let Lucky’s words sink in, and then burst out laughing.
The old hunter chuckled too in a deep, jovial way. When Lucky finally quit, he asked, “How are Kelly and your sweet granddaughter doing?”
“They are all hale and excited about leaving tomorrow for our visit to Sam and Catherine’s place for Christmas.”
“Yep, Bear told me about your trip and asked me to look after his place and William’s while all of you were gone. I’ll take care of feeding the horses and stock too.”
“We appreciate your help, Lucky.”
“Would you do a favor for an old man?” Lucky asked.
Concerned, he glanced up and studied Lucky’s weathered face. “Certainly. Are you not well? Do you need me to reopen the apothecary?”
“If I were any better, I’d be in heaven. I just wanted you to tell the Captain and Catherine howdy for me and send my Christmas wishes to them.”
“Well, of course I will. I can’t wait to see them again myself. According to Sam’s last letter, Catherine is due to deliver soon. Perhaps we will have more to celebrate than the birth of our Lord.”
Lucky nodded in agreement. “It’s tavern time. Care to join me?”
Rory shook his head. He’d sworn off liquor for the rest of his life. Drinking to excess had almost cost him his daughter’s life. “I thank you for your invitation, Sir, but I need to pick up some gifts for the children. I hope Breedhead isn’t sold out.”
“I’ll leave you to make your purchases then.” Lucky waved as he rode away toward the tavern and eatery.
“Have a blessed holiday,” Rory called after Lucky. As he watched the old fellow ride away, he decided he would ask Sam if he could invite Lucky to join them next year.
He hurried to the general store and, as he entered, he delighted in the store’s unique fragrance. A blend of spices, leathers, grains, coffee, gunpowder, and at least a dozen of other scents. Breedhead still had several customers and would likely have to stay open past the store’s normal closing time. Like most men, Rory dreaded shopping and had procrastinated until the last minute. He quickly selected an assortment of toys and even found a pretty hair comb for Kelly. After all, she would always be his little girl, even if she was married and had a child of her own.
After he paid, he retrieved his horse from the livery, loaded his packages, and hurried over to the fort to meet up with William. On the days he worked at the apothecary, he and William normally rode to and from Boonesborough together. Kelly would have a nice meal prepared and he didn’t want to be too late. She’d scold them both if her meal got overcooked.
William’s horse, Smoke, stood saddled and waiting outside the office.
“Ready?” William asked him as he entered the sheriff’s office.
“Indeed. It has been a particularly long day.”
“Good night, Dr. McGuffin. Have a safe journey and pleasant visit with your family.”
“Good night Deputy Wallace,” Rory said as he turned to leave.
Speaking to William, Wallace added, “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks. Don’t worry sheriff, the judge will be here while you’re gone if I need help with anything.”
“I’m not worried,” William said, “I know I’m leaving the town in capable hands. And Judge Webb and Colonel Byrd are here to assist you if needed.”
Wallace stood a little taller and shook William’s hand. “Thank you, Sir. And please have a wonderful time with your family. You’ve earned some time off.”
“Thank you Deputy. I’ll be back in early January, right after the Twelfth Day race.”
“That’s twelve days starting on Christmas, right?”
“Yes,” William said. “The twelve days are 25 December to 5 January. So we should be back home around the seventh or eighth.”
“We’d best be on our way,” Rory said. “You know how your wife gets when we keep her dinner waiting.”
“You mean how your daughter gets!” William laughed and snugged his tricorne onto his head. “I do know. Let’s hurry!”
“Gwaaanpa,” Nicole said as Rory opened the door to Kelly and William’s cabin. Not quite two years old, the pronunciation of some words still eluded Nicole.
William’s long legs swept past him and his son-in-law lifted Nicole into his arms before McGuffin could reach her. Whenever William and he arrived together, they’d both race in to see who could pick Nicole up first. The game seemed to amuse his granddaughter.
“Your Father got you first tonight,” Rory told her. “But I’ll win next time!”
“Kiss mama!” Nicole commanded her father and pointed a tiny finger at her mother.
William carried his daughter over to Kelly and gave his wife a big kiss. Riley, their big golden dog, wagged his tail furiously, as he romped next to them. It was another game they all played. As soon as he got home, Nicole would tell her father to kiss her mother and Riley would escort the two over to Kelly. McGuffin suspected that it was William’s favorite of the many games they played.
“How’s my daughter? Did you have a good day helping your mother pack for our trip?” William asked Nicole. He gave Riley a vigorous pat or two and then sat down at the table with Nicole balanced on one leg. Riley instantly jumped up and planted his front legs across William’s other leg. William gave both a big hug.
“She did have a good day,” Kelly answered for her. “We are all packed up and ready to go.”
“Go,” Nicole repeated, “see Unc’ Bear.”
“And have a wonderful family Christmas!” Rory told her. He missed celebrating Christmas with his family at his childhood home on their Virginia plantation. They followed the old Christmas customs of their English ancestors who lived in fine manor houses. He remembered enjoying ample feasts, dancing, gambling on horse races, hunting, and visiting relatives. His oldest brother, in keeping with custom, inherited their family home and the plantation. He couldn’t help but wonder if he still celebrated Christmas with gusto as their parents had. Perhaps one Christmas, he would pay him a visit.
“I’d like to leave by daybreak,” William said, “earlier if possible.”
“I’ll be ready and have the wagon team hitched,” Rory said.
“Oh, I almost forgot the presents for the children,” William told Kelly. “We unloaded them onto the porch before we stalled the horses.”
“I’ll get them,” Rory volunteered, “you have your hands full.” He went outside and brought several packages back, stacking them beside the luggage neatly piled by the door.
“Since Bear had to leave sooner than he planned, he wanted us to pick out presents for Stephen’s girls and…” William paused and peered into his daughter’s happy face, “…and Nicole!”
The child giggled with glee and clapped her tiny hands. “Pwesssscents!”
William turned to Kelly. “Since you didn’t get a chance to get into town, I went ahead and purchased the gifts. And I bought Nicole a warm wool coat. A blue one.”
“Oh William, that’s wonderful! She needed it. We’ll all need to wear warm clothing,” Kelly said. “After we eat, I’ll tie some pretty ribbons on the packages.”
“And we should bring plenty of blankets and furs,” Rory said. “I don’t want Nicole to catch a chill.”
“Agreed,” William said. “But if she does, she’ll have her own personal physician.” William glanced over at him and winked.
“True,” Rory said, “but it’s much easier to prevent an illness than it is to cure one.”
“Pa, did you bring your medicines home with you?” Kelly asked.
“Yes, I brought everything I could think of. I should have all we might require. Hopefully, we won’t need any of it.”
“Now all we need is a couple of days of mild traveling weather,”
Kelly said.
“No problem, we’ll ask Father Christmas to bring it!” Rory said, grinning at Nicole.
He couldn’t wait to spend a peaceful Christmas with his family.
Chapter 10
Cumberland Falls Horse Farm, Kentucky, late Monday, 19 December, 1799
“Garvin!” Sam yelled into the barn as he approached. When his farm manager rushed out, he asked, “Have you seen my son?”
“No, Sir. Do you want me to ask the other men?”
“Yes, and be quick about it.” Sam paced outside the barn, wearing a path in the snow down to the dirt. Where could the boy be? He scanned around him, hoping to spot his son. But he only saw a crimson sunset gleaming through the dark woods. He could not take time to appreciate its beauty now. He began to worry in earnest as his mind clouded with the terrible possibilities. Was Little John hurt? Did a wild animal find him? Was he lost?
Garvin hurried back and reported the men had seen no sign of the boy and Little John’s horse was still in the barn. “Do you want us to get saddled and start a search?”
Sam rubbed the tense muscles on the back of his neck. It was nearly dark. Little John should have returned by now. The boy never disobeyed him. Well, almost never. But he doubted Little John would want to be out after dark. He looked up at Garvin. “Yes, have the other men saddle up, and tell them to each bring a torch. Have one of them saddle Alex for me. I want you to stay behind. Stand guard on the front porch and keep your eyes wide open. If my son returns, fire one shot into the air.”
“Yes, Sir. I’ll speak to the men and be right there.”
Sam rushed to the house, leapt onto the porch, and called to his wife as he burst through the door. “Catherine!”
She hurried into the front room. “Is something wrong?”
“I pray not. Little John never came back from hunting and it’s getting late.”
“Oh no,” Catherine said, covering her mouth with a hand. Concern quickly filled her eyes.
A wave of apprehension gripped Sam. “I checked the house earlier. When I didn’t find him, I starting searching everywhere. He hasn’t come back in here has he?”
Frontier Gift of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 5) Page 8