Martha nodded but didn’t say anything.
Artis took Samuel from Martha and then both girls ran to Catherine’s outstretched arms and hugged her.
Catherine embraced them and kissed the tops of their heads as she held them close. She looked over at Little John, who stood nearby, and motioned him to her as well.
Artis sat down with baby Samuel in her lap. The rosy-cheeked little boy grabbed a fistful of her long wavy tresses with his chubby hands.
As Catherine hugged and kissed the girls and Little John, she couldn’t help but watch Samuel. He looked so sweet sitting there playing with Artis’ hair. Would she be able to hold her own son soon? Please, God.
Catherine returned her attention to the girls who still held onto her hands.
“They took my mother,” Polly cried, gazing up at Catherine with tear-filled eyes.
“That wicked man pointed a gun at her head,” Martha told Sam. “I was so frightened.”
“That bastard!” Sam swore. He stood there fuming while Miss Henk helped the children out of their coats, hats, and scarves. As she freed them of their heavy woolen coverings, he gave each of them a big hug.
Sam began to pace. Catherine could clearly see how troubled he was. Jane’s life was at risk. And so were Stephen and Bear’s. She could almost see Sam’s mind racing. He wanted to go with his men to help with Jane’s rescue. But he wouldn’t leave her no matter how hard she tried to persuade him to go.
“Warm yourselves by the fire children,” Mrs. Wrigley told them kindly. “Everything will be all right. We’ll have some warm milk and cookies for you in no time.”
The girls and Little John all sat down cross-legged on the rug near the fireplace. “She makes the best cookies,” Little John whispered to them.
Harry, Matthew, and James started bringing in the family’s belongings and quietly set everything near the front door. They tried to leave but then stopped abruptly at the sound of Sam’s heated voice.
“You three, over here,” Sam barked.
The three hands turned to face Sam, their faces apprehensive. Garvin had remained frozen in front of Sam, hat in hand, but he spoke up for the group. “Mr. Wyllie, I can’t express how sorry we all are. But Dixon fooled us, and then he stole the weapon and the next thing we knew Crowell had us all hogtied.”
“On second thought, let’s go outside,” Sam grumbled, and then stormed toward the door. The four men followed him onto the porch.
Catherine suspected Sam didn’t want the men to say anything in front of Martha and Polly that might scare the girls. His wrath would also likely make him prone to swearing.
After the men left, Catherine sat down in Sam’s chair which was closer to the children. “I am so sorry this happened girls. But if I know Stephen and Bear, they will soon return with your mother.”
“They better,” Martha said, her lip quivering and green eyes intense.
Catherine could see that the ten-year-old was more angry than afraid.
“They will,” Little John said.
“How do you know?” Polly asked. A tear trickled down her cold-reddened cheek. The opposite of her sister, she was more afraid than angry.
“I know your father. And I know Uncle Bear. They’re brave and strong. They won’t let a couple of bad men hurt your mother,” he answered.
“I agree,” Catherine said.
Sam threw the door open so hard it banged against the wall and the youngsters all jumped. He shook his head as he closed the door. “I’m sorry children. I didn’t mean to do that. I’m just so angry at those two men for taking Jane.”
“I’m mad too!” Martha declared.
“Aye, ‘tis infuriating!” Artis agreed.
“Catherine, I’m sending our four hands after Stephen and Bear. Perhaps they will be able to help, then they can proceed on to Fort Harrod as planned. As soon as they get fresh horses saddled, they’re leaving.”
“I hope you weren’t too hard on your men, Sam,” Catherine said.
“No. Dixon is a conniving bastard and as slippery as an eel.”
“Indeed,” she agreed. “And just as repulsive.”
“How are you feeling?” Sam asked her.
“Much better now,” she said and smiled.
“Glad to hear it,” he told her.
Sam stood in front of the children. “Martha, Polly, I don’t want you to worry too much. Your father and Bear will bring your mother back. I know my brothers, and those two weasels don’t stand a chance.”
“That’s exactly what I told them when you were outside,” Little John said.
“And you’re both right,” Catherine said, giving Martha’s shoulder a pat.
Sam knelt, gripped Polly’s hand, and gently squeezed it. “I’m going to go hurry my men along. I would go too, but I need to stay to take care of Catherine and guard all of you. You’re safe here, I promise.”
“Thank you, Uncle Sam,” Polly said with a sniffle.
“My brothers will be back with your mother before you know it.” Sam stood and turned his eyes toward Catherine. “I going to do some work outside. Send Artis to get me if you need me.” He leaned over, gave her a kiss on the forehead, and left carrying his long rifle and pistols.
Catherine needed a way to entertain the children and keep them distracted from the ordeal their mother was experiencing. “Children, what do you say, should we ask your Aunt Artis to tell us all about her home in Scotland?” Catherine asked. “We’ve learned a little about Scotland from Bear, but I’m sure Artis could tell us even more and we can all get to know her better.”
Artis’ face lit up at the mention of her former home. She glanced over at Catherine and smiled. Then a hint of sadness filled her eyes for a moment or two before she shook her head and it disappeared.
Sometime while Artis was visiting, Catherine wanted to learn what had caused such melancholy to appear in the woman’s striking green eyes. Her strong profile and proud bearing held an inherent strength that she suspected was a result of some suffering, yet Artis appeared gentle, serenely wise, and stunningly beautiful.
“Would you, Aunt Artis, please?” Little John asked.
“Aye, but I must warn ye. I might scare ye with my descriptions of loch monsters and dragons on the moor,” Artis said, making her eyes wide.
Little John scooted a little closer to Artis’ knees.
The two girls turned to face Artis, appearing intrigued. It was good to see something on their young faces besides fear and sadness. Both girls were exceptionally pretty, but Martha had her mother’s fiery copper locks that curled in every direction. Her hair was in even greater disarray than normal, giving her a delightfully wild look. Polly appeared tired and mellow, unlike her typically high-spirited self.
“Bear told us that there are fairies in Scotland,” Martha said. “Is it true?”
“Well, if Bear said it, then ‘tis true,” Artis said, giggling a little. She glanced at Catherine and winked.
“Your hair is so pretty,” Polly said, gazing up at Artis. “It’s like cinnamon and butter mixed together.”
Baby Samuel must have agreed because he still appeared fascinated by the fistful of Artis’ hair in his hand. Perhaps it was the unique color that captivated the child.
Artis grinned at Polly. “Thank ye, Polly. I like yer hair too, ye wee fey lass. ’Tis nearly as black as my bearskin blanket.”
“What’s fey mean?” Polly asked.
“It means ye remind me of a whimsical fairy yerself.”
“You have a bearskin?” Little John asked.
“Aye. Bear made it and ‘tis the warmest blanket I’ve ever had,” Artis answered.
“How’d he get it?” Martha asked.
“Well now, that’s a story Bear should tell. He tells it far better than I,” Artis said.
Mrs. Wrigley brought in a large tray filled to overflowing with bread and butter, cookies, biscuits and wild grape preserves, and assorted tarts. Miss Henk followed her in carrying a tray of mugs fille
d with steaming sweetened milk. She gave each child a small towel to eat on and they all grabbed an assortment of treats and then sat down again. Catherine was starving, as she nearly always was since the babe starting growing so fast. She took a slice of warm bread and slathered it with the preserves. Artis wanted only a shortbread cookie.
Mrs. Wrigley took baby Samuel from Artis saying she would feed him and see if his cloth needed changing. Samuel started crying as the cook carried him to the kitchen, evidently not wanting to leave Artis. Catherine couldn’t blame the boy. She looked like an angel with the firelight dancing on her long hair.
“How cold does it get in Scotland?” Polly asked, chewing a tart. “As cold as here?”
“Oh, aye. Much worse. My grandfather and great-uncle told me of the worst winter ever. All the aged among us never remembered anythin’ like it. It happened in the year 1674, on twelve days in December. It was the most dire storm imaginable. At the beginnin’ of it, there were fierce storms and snow. Then a terrible wind from the east caused great loss of ships on the sea. And docked ships, large and small, were cast away like wee toys.”
“Then what happened?” Little John asked, already appearing enthralled.
“Then, a most harsh frost followed that covered the highlands and moors. The wee birds fell down from the air dead, frozen in flight. Even the big ravens died. The rats all froze in great numbers and later great piles of their bodies were found. Most of the sheep and cows died too. All the casks of ale froze and could not be drunk to warm the insides of the people. Even the contents of the chamber-pots froze solid.”
The children all giggled.
“’Tis true!” Artis declared. “After the terrible frost, it snowed for ten straight days and never once halted. The loch and all the fresh waters stayed frozen solid for two full months.”
“What’s a loch?” Polly asked.
“’Tis a vast and beautiful body of water,” Artis answered. “In Scotland we have many lochs. Their color is so blue and clear in the summer that they often made us want to weep from pure joy.”
“Joy can make you cry?” Polly asked. “I never had that happen.”
“Aye, it can. Happy tears fall when yer heart is so full of love it needs to let a wee bit of it out. I was that happy when I married Bear. I wept like a wee bairn,” Artis said. “Even Bear shed a tear or two of happiness.”
“Bear?” the children all asked at once, sounding skeptical.
Artis only smiled knowingly.
Catherine believed it. Bear seemed deeply in love. It thrilled her to know that he finally found his true love. He deserved happiness.
“I’m glad you married Bear,” Martha said.
“Me too,” Little John said. “But what about the monster in the lake? I mean loch.”
“Well now, here’s the strange story as told to many generations of Scotland’s children. I learned it as a young lass myself from my dear father. God rest his gentle soul.”
As Artis began, the animation in her voice was enchanting. The children all shifted a little closer. Even Catherine was pulled in by her charm.
“An Irish monk named Saint Columba was visitin’ his companions in Scotland when he came across the locals buryin’ a poor young fellow. The monk asked them why they appeared so frightened. They all started speakin’ at once and he could na understand their blatherin’. So he asked the oldest man there to speak. He explained that they had just watched in horror as a huge water beast with a long thin neck and a humped back attacked their companion while he was swimmin’, mauled him, and dragged him under. Then they bravely took a boat out to try to rescue the lad.”
“Did they find him?” Polly asked.
“Alas, they only drug up his cold corpse.”
“The poor fellow,” Martha said.
“What happened then?” Little John asked.
Artis raised her brows. “Hearing this story, Saint Columba straightaway marched to the edge of the loch, made the sign of the Cross, and invoked the holy name of God. Then he shouted out onto the loch in a great booming voice.”
“What did he yell?” Martha asked.
Making her voice louder, Artis answered, “St. Columba ordered the monster to kill no more and sent him away.”
“Did he go away?” Polly asked.
“Aye, he did, for many years, but then…” she paused.
“Then?” Little John pressed.
“When St. Columba went to heaven, the monster returned.”
“He did?” Polly asked in a squeaky voice, her eyes wide.
“Indeed, and ever since, many have spotted the immense creature plungin’ into and out of the great depths of the loch. And many are sorely frightened of the fearsome beast. Although he has na killed another man, woman or…child…since, some have mysteriously disappeared.”
“Have you seen the creature?” Little John asked. His straight blonde hair hung down in his excited eyes.
He would need a haircut before Christmas Catherine noted.
“I can na say for certain, but one mornin’ when I took my walk along the loch’s shores…” Artis paused and then grippingly looked each of them in the eye.
“What?” Little John nearly demanded.
“Tell us, please,” Polly pleaded.
“…I saw somethin’ enormous, rollin’ and dippin’ on the surface of the sparkling water, but it moved so fast, I could na tell for sure what it was. But I tell ye one thing,” she said.
“What?” all three children asked.
“I would na go swimmin’ near there ever again,” she concluded. “For if I did, I might just disappear from this world, never to be seen again.”
“Oh my,” Catherine said, enthralled herself.
Then she said, “Oh my,” again, but for an entirely different reason.
Chapter 22
William was still laughing at Riley’s antics when he heard two riders approaching at a thunderous pace. His laughter broke off as did the others and everyone quietly watched the riders draw near.
He squinted into the distance. “That looks like…”
“It’s Stephen and Bear,” Kelly declared.
“Good,” Jane said, her face stern. “They can help us hang them.”
Crowell sniveled and Dixon frowned, his eyes heated under drawn brows.
Jane had been madder than an angered hornet earlier, but William was certain she realized he would never hang the men without a trial.
He wasn’t so sure about Stephen though. Or Bear. Neither one was bound by the code that a man of the law must follow. They were bound by the unwritten code of the frontier—a man always held the right, without question, to defend himself and his family.
He’d once seen Stephen’s rage unleashed upon a vicious man who dared to hurt Jane. It was an unstoppable rage. And Bear was so protective of his family, there was no telling what he might do.
“Jane!” he heard Stephen yell.
Jane urged her horse to gallop toward her husband. “Stephen!” she called as she rode toward him.
When the two reached each other, they both swiftly dismounted and ardently embraced.
William knew enormous relief filled his brother’s heart. Stephen loved Jane dearly.
Bear continued coming toward William’s wagon, giving the two a moment of privacy.
“I see ye have captured our two snakes, brother,” Bear said.
“We did,” William said, remounting Smoke.
Bear nodded to Rory and Kelly and then rode closer to the wagon. Like an angry giant, his face reddened and his flinty eyes narrowed, Bear peered down at the two men. “I ought to skin you two head to toe and then hang ye upside down for the wolves to finish off,” he growled.
Crowell paled and looked like he might heave.
Dixon’s mouth took on an unpleasant twist as he glared back at Bear. “You don’t frighten me.”
William shook his head. Was Dixon just an imbecile? He ought to be afraid. Exceedingly afraid.
“That
one’s brains are in his ballocks,” Bear said pointing a finger at Dixon.
“Bear, we’ll deal with these two later. Will you help me control Stephen if he loses him temper?” William asked.
“I’m na so sure we shouldn’t let Stephen have his way with them,” Bear answered. “’Tis a man’s right to defend his family.”
“The world would be better off without that pair,” Rory said.
“Agreed, but that is not for us to decide,” William said.
“Maybe it is,” Bear said. “I will na abide these two threatenin’ our family a third time. As long as they’re alive, will any of our women and children be safe? They are obviously desperate. I do na believe they will give up. But what they want, Sam will never give.”
“I agree, he won’t,” William said. “That mountain is sacred to him. To all of us.”
“Please, Mr. Wyllie,” Crowell pleaded, “I don’t want to die. Taking her was Mr. Dixon’s idea, not mine.”
Dixon tried to kick Crowell with his tied feet and Riley snapped at him.
“Did they wet themselves?” Bear asked, noticing the wet spots on their pants.
“No, Riley already passed judgment on the two,” William answered.
Bear threw back his head and let out a great boom of laughter. “I knew that dog was smart.”
“How are Stephen and Jane’s children? Is their babe all right?” Kelly asked Bear as soon as he finished chuckling.
“Aye, the bairn is fine. But he’s na a wee babe anymore. Ye should see the size of the lad. The lasses were frightened and worried for their Mum. But they should be at Sam and Catherine’s by now. Sam’s men took them back. The women will get them warmed up and Mrs. Wrigley will fill their bellies to near burstin’.”
“Let me go talk to Stephen,” William told Bear. “Wait here.”
William rode up to Jane and Stephen and then stepped off of Smoke. “Jane told you that I have recaptured the prisoners?” he asked Stephen, keeping his voice and manner calm.
Stephen released Jane from his arms and took a quick step toward William. “Yes. Let’s go hang them.” Fury filled his fiery eyes.
“Stephen, we can’t. They’re my prisoners now. I am bound by duty and honor to take them back to Fort Harrod for trial.”
Frontier Gift of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 5) Page 17