by Adair, Mary
"The woman is mine," Frank growled in a low whisper. "I told ye I was lookin' for a woman when we joined up."
"Who ain't lookin' for a woman," Ronnie insisted in the same low tone. "You're the last ta join up, you're the last ta have her."
"I done told you two, a man has ta have his limits. We don't kill nobody. There's got ta be a man close by, and you know ain't no man in possession of a woman like that is gonna just hand her over. We'll take whatever money they have, their horses, and maybe tease them a bit and then be on our way. Frank, you circle around and see how many there are, and be quick about it." The big man leveled his gaze back on Little Jack. "You remember what I said?"
Little Jack nodded.
"Good."
It seemed to take no time at all to Little Jack before Frank returned with the news that there were only two, a man and a woman. "And they got some real nice horses. Better than the two we got 'ere."
Chapter Seventeen
Raven knew the moment Dawn woke. He smiled into the dark pre-dawn and kept his breathing soft and regular, knowing that she listened for any sign that he was awake. She stroked his arm, which cradled her gently against him. He suspected she remembered the soft caresses and gentle words from the night before. With a soft sigh, she placed a hand to her flat abdomen. Was it possible that she could have conceived so quickly? Guilt washed over him. The memory of what they had done, what seemed so right the night before, tore at him with accusations of selfishness and lack of self-control. He truly was no better than the father he hated.
Lifting his arm gently, Dawn slipped from his embrace. He watched her gather her clothes and step from the shadows of the large oak where they had lain and made love. His eyes and soul soaked in the sight of her lean, lithe body and the way she moved with grace and stealth toward the horses hobbled at the far side of the clearing.
With silent efficiency, she raided a saddlebag, then headed through the forest toward the pond. Raven threw aside the blanket and sat up. The imp was going to greet the sun. With a feeling of admiration and irritation for her stubborn adherence to her customs, even in an unknown land with unknown threats, he pushed himself to his feet and snatched his pants. He reached the pond in time to admire her grace as Dawn waded into the cold, clear water.
She took the handful of bathing moss retrieved from her bag and lathered her hair and body, another reminder to Raven of how she did not belong in a land so far removed from her people. She had told him the perfumed soaps and creams so sought after in London were a poor imitation of the bathing moss she had brought from her home.
When she breathed deeply, his gaze was drawn to her breasts as they gently rose above the water. He knew that she thought of her mountain home. She was as out of place here as his own mother would have been. Was this something his father had known and understood about his mother? Guilt tugged at his spirit. He knew and understood that about Dawn last night. Yet he held her in his arms and may have planted his own seed within her body.
He fought to keep his breath steady and his emotions under control. Dawn said that she knew him. Could she? The trees of the forest prevented a clear view of the horizon, yet Dawn instinctively knew the exact moment the sun kissed the face of the earth. His heart filled with the hope each sunrise brought as he watched her rinse herself and raise her arms to the sun in greeting. Could she know him as well as she knew the motions of nature? Did she know the dark, miserable side of him, or did she only sense the light of good that time and life had pushed so deeply inside?
When her prayer was complete, he spoke to her. "I wish you wouldn't do that again while we're on this journey."
Raven stood on the bank, the saddled horses behind him. Dawn nodded in admiration. "I am impressed. You dressed and packed up without me hearing a sound."
With a long exhausted sigh, he indicated at her clothes on the bank. "Get dressed, Dawn. We have a long way to travel today."
He and Dawn froze when a commotion from the brush caught their attention. They whirled as three men stepped onto the bank at Dawn's right.
The largest and burliest of the three men stepped to the forefront. He was obviously the leader. Raven saw no weapon in the man's heavy fists resting on his plump waist. Undoubtedly the giant of a man, unwashed and hairy as a bear, felt his appearance daunting enough.
Only one of the three outlaws held a pistol, but that was more than Raven had at the moment. The arms bearer's mouse-colored hair strung down the sloping shoulders. He was a man of average height who stood at the right behind the chief. Nothing impressive about him—except the gun in his hand.
To the larger man's left crouched a small, nervous fellow who pointed his nose in Dawn's direction. Bushy orange eyebrows hooded bulging eyes, and his gaze darted everywhere.
Blood pumped through Raven as he realized the difficult situation he and Dawn were now in. Three to one and that didn't even take into account the pistol. Naked as the day she was born, Dawn stood motionless in water to the top of her breasts. Clear, sun kissed olive skin on her bare shoulders must have seemed an invitation to the three ruffians.
Fear flickered across her face before she slipped on her warrior's mask. He hoped she remembered the words of her father, 'Never let the enemy see your fear.' Raven saw her steady herself so she could respond to him calmly. She raised her gaze to meet his. Love and trust shone from her beautiful blue eyes.
He knew he must prevent these men from defiling her. But could he get between her and them? He raised his hands for her to stay put. "Stay in the water, Dawn. I'll handle this."
"Don't ye be a rushin' to dress on our account, little lady." Called the leader.
"What do you want?" Raven asked, knowing full well the answer before he spoke.
"Me mates and me thought the two o' you might like to share a wee bit o' yer wealth with us." He leered at Dawn. "And we'd like to see a bit more o' the little lady there."
The bushy-browed one said, "Come on out o' there and let us have a look."
Raven stepped forward, intent on placing himself between the men and Dawn.
"I wouldn't do that if ‘n I was you." The mousy man leveled the pistol at Raven's chest. "Let the little lady come out o' the water and us have a look see."
'"At's right. You don't want to make Ronnie here nervous. Wouldn't want that pistol to go off, would we?" The leader said.
Raven calculated his chances. Unless the shot hit him in the head or chest, he could reach the men before the mousy-looking one called Ronnie had a chance to reload. Then what? He had his knife in the neck sheath at his back. That would disable one man, which left two. Could Dawn take care of one of them? Of course, he knew his little warrior could defend herself against one of these brutes.
The leader beckoned with his hand. "Come on out, missy. Give us the gold, then we'll give you something."
The men laughed and made lewd remarks. Raven tried to signal her. He knew she had a knife under her clothing.
"Dawn, get the gold and give it to them. Perhaps then they'll let us leave." Raven watched the men rather than Dawn, Hoping their attention would be distracted when she left the water. He hated for these scurrilous ruffians to witness Dawn's beauty, but could think of no alternative.
She moved toward the bank and the pile of clothing. The men watched slack-jawed, mesmerized as she slowly emerged from the water. He glorious skin glistened in the early morning light and she moved with grace of a doe. Her breathtaking loveliness held their attention.
Raven waited, poised for the moment her hand reached the knife hidden under the garments. As if coming out of a trance, the three men strode toward her. Their ribald commentary left no doubt to their intentions.
As Dawn darted for her knife, Raven threw his at Ronnie's gun arm. The point sunk into the scoundrel's arm.
"Arrgh!" Ronnie's scream rent the air as the gun dropped from his hand. The discharge of the firearm echoed through the forest.
Raven felt the sting in his side, but dared not pause to exam
ine his wound. With the gun disabled, he rushed the giant leader. Dawn gripped her knife, ready to defend herself against the third man, the one with bush-brows and a fox-like appearance. Seeing her intent, he broke into a run.
"Good luck to ye lads," he called as he disappeared into the forest.
"You come back here, you double-crossing swine," called Ronnie as he rocked back and forth on the ground clutching at the knife protruding from his arm.
Raven grappled with the huge knave, ignoring Ronnie's cries. The leader's bulk consisted of solid muscle and the man probably outweighed Raven by two stones. Raven barely had time to register that Dawn slipped her long shirt over her head.
Raven and the assailant rolled on the bank, and the man's massive hands closed on Raven's throat. Raven clawed at the finger's imprisoning him, but to no avail. The Goliath's strength matched his own. Raven felt his airway closing. His eyes felt ready to explode from his head. With a mighty thrust, he freed himself and rolled away.
"Raven," Dawn called and tossed him his knife.
He caught it and faced the brute. "Give in or I'll geld you for your thoughts about Dawn. I'll demonstrate what we Indians do to your kind in the colonies." His voice rasped from the abuse his throat had suffered at the mammoth's hands. "Perhaps I will do so anyway to punish you for looking on her."
The man paled and put out a hand in protest. "Now, no need fer that knife. Ye see, we was just lookin' fer a few pence to tide us over. Seein' yer fine mounts we figured you could spare us a bit and never miss it. We meant ye no harm."
Raven ignored his false protests and motioned him to turn around. "Put your hands behind you and don't make another move or you'll never father another child." He whipped off the thong restraining his hair and used it to bind the man's wrists together. "Now, sit down by that tree and then don't move a muscle."
Ronnie called, "I'm mortally wounded here. I needs a healer afore I bleeds ta death." His hands were tied behind his back.
"I'm a healer, and you'll be fine," Dawn said. "That is, unless you try thievery again." She kicked the pistol into the pool. "I'll bandage your wound."
Raven pressed a hand to his side. "Hurry. We don't know where the other fellow is or if he's bringing others back with him."
Dawn held the gaping neck of her shirt. "I'll have to get a lace for my shirt from the saddlebags. I used this one to tie up our visitor." She hurried to the horses. When she returned she had a large role of bandages and a rope.
Quickly she bound the knife wound and guided the moaning man to a tree some distance from his comrade. "Sit there quietly a quit acting such a baby." She turned to Raven and asked, "Do you have a rope?"
"No, we'll have to leave then with only their arms tried. Help me and we'll leave them without their boots."
She worked swiftly and without a wasted motion. He had never felt such pride in another's courage.
Dawn held a knife to the giant's throat while Raven jerked off the man's scuffed boots. "Look at the state of these," he said to Dawn. "Man, do you never bathe or polish your boots?"
The cad glared at him with fierce hatred in his eyes, but said nothing. Raven removed the man's britches, then strode to Ronnie. Dawn joined them while Raven repeated the process.
"You can't leave us like this," Ronnie whined. "I be hurt and we cain't even defend ourselves like this."
"Best be careful of thieves and robbers then," Raven answered. He bundled the boots and britches and tied them behind eagle's saddle. "We'll leave your britches and boots a ways down the trail."
"You're lucky there are no ant beds. Staking you over one, then covering you with honey would be pleasant to watch, wouldn't it, Raven?" Dawn asked.
Ronnie started moaning again. The fallen leader only stared, but fear shone in his eyes.
"Yes, and they deserve as much. Or perhaps we could skin them alive and leave them for the animals to finish. Too bad we're in such a hurry or we could treat then to a display of Indian hospitality suitable for robbers."
Dawn gasped. "Raven, you're bleeding." She rushed to his side.
He turned the wound away from her. "It's nothing. Bullet grazed me when the gun discharged. Mount up and let's be on our way." He bent and scooped up some moss to press to the wound and took out his handkerchief to make a binding.
"No, I'll not leave until you've let me attend you. Look at how much blood you've lost already."
From the set of her jaw and the way she stood with feet braced, Raven knew Dawn would not let the matter rest.
"I'll take care of it while we ride." He held up the moss, "See, I'll press this against it."
She moved to her horse and rummaged in the saddlebags for more of the bandaging she'd used on the would-be robber. "Da insisted I always carry plenty of bandages and a few medicines."
While he watched her efficient activity, the realization that the bullet could have hit her staggered him. That knowledge left him more in shock than the throbbing hole in his side. Nothing in the world was more important than Dawn. Not the name of his father, not all the wealth in the world. His heart ached at the thought of her lying dead from a bullet wound.
She turned to him, the supplies in her hands. "Here, let me it see.
He took the cloth strips from her. "It's nothing. I'll tend to it." He went to the pool and then removed his blood soaked cloths. Squatting down he moistened his handkerchief to wipe at the hole. Apparently the shot missed any vital organs, but the lead remained in him. Still, the wound did not appear grievous and the danger in this location was too great to remain while Dawn delved for the bullet. They had to press onward before the third man returned.
He pressed the moss to staunch the blood's flow, then wound the bandage about his waist to cover the wound. Dizziness pulled at him as he rose up, but he fought it. If he mounted Eagle, the mighty horse would serve as a resting place while they rode onward away from these men. He retrieved a change of clothing and hastily pulled them on.
"There, now get on your horse. We've wasted enough time."
He still didn't know how to treat Dawn. One minute he saw in her the warrior her mother was at her age. In the next minute he recalled the laughing child of her youth. And then, above both those rose his desire to crush her to him and hold her forever. Being near to her kept him constantly confused, never sure of what to say or how to treat her. Worse, he found himself saying and doing things before he thought them through.
How bravely she had handled herself with the robbers. His heart swelled with pride as well as the love he allowed himself to acknowledge. His little warrior soared above the other women he knew. How he wished they could build a life together forever, but he knew it could not be. She would wilt in the confines of English society. She needed the freedom offered by her Chota Town, where he could never return. He exhaled a huge breath. What were they to do?
Dawn said nothing, but he knew she wasn't convinced the wound wasn't serious. She took her place behind him. He wasn't fooled by her maneuver. She had refused to ride beside him earlier out of anger. She now had another reason to stay behind. Any faltering from him and she would not be stopped from checking his wound.
They rode only a short distance when Dawn noticed Eagle limping slightly. "Raven, I think Eagle has picked up a stone."
"Yes, I had just noticed that myself." Raven slid from Eagle's back and, placing a hand on the horse's rear flank, rubbed down the leg. Eagle obediently lifted his foot and allowed Raven to examine his hoof. "He has a nasty, ragged stone wedged in his hoof and has thrown his shoe." He retrieved his knife and dug the stone out. "He needs to be shod. There's a village about a two-hour walk from here. It's in the wrong direction, but that can't be helped."
"We also need to tend your wound. Will we be able to purchase the supplies we need there?"
Raven released Eagle's hoof gently and stepped back. "There should be no problem with finding what you need. It has been a long time sense I've visited Dunmere. I have a good friend who lives there. His name is Ri
chard Whitmore."
Dawn stepped to Eagle, so she could loosen the saddlebags. "I guess we'll find out when we get there. Let's transfer what we can from Eagle's back onto Lady's. I have a couple of apples. Want one? We can eat them as we walk."
"I'm sorry for not taking the time to eat something. Are you terribly hungry?" Raven held Eagle and waited for Dawn to settle the saddlebags and retrieve the apples.
"No, this will be fine." She tossed him an apple, which he caught in one hand. "How do you know this Whitmore fellow? The name sounds familiar."
"William and I met him at Eton when we were boys. Richard's father, Sir Robert Whitmore, was a respectable horse breeder. Richard inherited his father's knack with the animals. Well, you know how I feel about horses." He patted Eagle's neck. "The village fair hosts a horse race each year. One year, Eagle here, outran one of Richard's best. I can tell you, that caused quite a stir."
To Raven's disappointment Dawn shrugged. "I see." She did not look impressed, and simply took a bite of her apple. "Is this the Baronet who married Lord Blake's daughter?"
“The very one.”
They walked the rest of the distance in companionable silence, lost in their thoughts. Raven tried not to hear her soft sighs or to remember the night they had spent in each other's arms. They had made such sweet love. He reminded himself they could not have a life together. He could not return to Chota, and she would never be happy in England. There seemed to be no way for them to be together. He bit into the apple and tried not to think of her at all, but how could he not? The very birds singing in the forest reminded him of her and his arms ached to hold her again.
The medicine of her love was strong, but was it strong enough to free him—or did it pull the snare even tighter? For too long he had lived with his anger. He had drawn his strength from that part of himself, that well of rage and resentment. It was so much a part of him now that he didn't know if he could exist without it.
***
Jeremy Thorton slowed his mount. He'd pushed the old nag too hard and feared she wouldn't last to the next village. Captain Brown had been so anxious after hearing Charlie's fate, he purchased the first animal he came to. Jeremy had found Charlie himself. The ship hand's throat had been slit from ear to ear and then his body left to rot in a dark alley. It looked like robbery, plain and simple, to Jeremy. The captain thought otherwise, especially since they had not found Johnson.