Love So Deep

by Kathleen Ball

  “Never had a need for more than two.” He helped himself to a biscuit, bit into it and smiled. “You’re a fair cook.”

  Ignoring him, she filled a plate and sat on the bed. She had to admit it was the best food she’d had in a good while. Her ability to cook over a fire came in handy. “Do you think there is any way I can catch up to the wagon train? I’d like to get back what’s mine.”

  He cocked his head and gave her a sad smile. “No, lass. Either they are still traveling or if caught in the snow, they could be anywhere. There’s no guarantee they’ll survive. Your group must have gotten a late start and with the early winter they may not make it.”

  His words saddened her. She’d made good friends who’d turned against her, but she would never wish them harm. The wind howled loudly. “We left early enough. The group was full of complainers, and we didn’t get very far before someone insisted we stop and rest. My parents were concerned but the wagon master, Chigger Graham, didn’t seem to care.”

  “Chigger? That’s a whole different story. He’s been known to rob people and ride off. Bet he’s sitting in a nice warm cabin somewhere in these mountains right now. The murdering

  bast—”

  “Language.”

  “What?”

  “There is an impressionable child here and you need to watch your language.”

  His jaw dropped, tempting her to laugh.

  “It’s not the first time he’s done something like this. Did most of the folks already have property bought?”

  A chill went through her. “Yes, why?”

  “Aw hel..heck. There is no property. He took your money and handed out phony deeds.”

  A lump formed in her throat. “He had a map. We picked our property. It was all official.”

  “I’m sorry, lass. It’s a hard blow and I bet that feller Stinky was in on it too.”

  Tears formed in her eyes and she turned her head away. She’d hoped to find her property and confront Stinky Sullivan. They’d been taken for everything they had, including lives. If only her papa hadn’t been so keen on going out West. The tears began to flow down her face. How? Why?

  Brian took the plate from her hands and set it on the bed. He climbed onto her lap and hugged her. Don’t cry, Ma. I hate it when you cry.”

  Patrick swung the axe into the air and brought it down with great force. The wood he split went flying in opposite directions. He couldn’t stomach her lies any longer. Watching her hold Brian on her lap as she cried cinched it. Why did she keep denying the boy? She was a bit touched in the head. She’d better not lay a hand on the lad or she’d have to answer to him.

  He gathered the wood he’d chopped, dropped a bit of it on the huge woodpile he had, and brought the rest inside the cabin. Usually chopping wood was a cure for any restlessness he felt, but it didn’t help this time. It was more than restlessness, sure, he needed to see to his traps, but it wasn’t a driving urge. It was the woman. Something about her disturbed him and it wasn’t her lying ways. He’d learned long ago not to touch a white woman but she tempted him.

  And her not knowing she was a temptation was the worst part. She didn’t view him in that manner. He was just someone who happened upon her in the frozen mountains. After spending most of the morning in the cold, he was ready to warm up. Damn, he’d never hesitated to go into his house before.

  With his arms loaded with firewood, he used his elbow to lift the latch on the door. He stepped into the cabin and was hit smack in the face with wet undergarments hanging from a rope strung from one wall to the opposite wall. “What the…”

  “Oops, sorry. Darn, I hope you didn’t get them dirty. It’s not easy to wash clothes in here.”

  He ducked, walked under the line, and was awe struck. She wore his shirt again but somehow she looked almost enticing in it. “Helped yourself to my clothes again?”

  She smiled and her eyes lit up. “Washed all the clothes I had and you know it isn’t much. Washed Brian’s and I washed your smalls.”

  “You washed my under things?”

  “I figured I may as well since I had the water good and hot.”

  He glanced at Brian, who was sitting on the bed with a fur wrapped around his scrawny body. Their gazes locked and Brian’s red face and the look of annoyance almost made his lips twitch. Instead, he gave him a nod of understanding.

  “Wish I had more extra clothes.”

  “I have it figured out if you’ll help me.”

  His eyes furrowed and he studied her. “What do ya have going on in that sweet head of yours?”

  She blushed. “I just thought we could make clothes out of buckskin. You seem to have plenty.”

  “I don’t know the first thing about making clothes. I get mine in trade. Besides, I don’t have anything for you to sew with. I broke my last needle stitching up a gash on my head.”

  She grabbed Brian’s clothes off the line. “I could use your knife to cut out the pattern and with pieces of leather strips I think I could hold the buckskin together to form clothes. I’d like to take a closer look at yours to see how they are put together.” Walking to the bed, she handed Brian his dry clothes. “Here, now you have clean clothes.”

  Brian stared at the clothes. “Thanks, Ma. It’s been a mighty long time since I had clean clothes.”

  She sighed, gave Patrick a sidelong glance, and cringed. He hoped she saw his disapproval. What child was ever happy about clean clothes? None of it made any sense and it was a dilemma.

  “You might as well take off your clothes so I can wash them.”

  Shaking his head, he sat down. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “You don’t want clean clothes?” She crossed her arms before her and frowned.

  “Ya see, ya have the only other shirt on.”

  “Oh. You can sit on the bed wrapped in furs.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m not going to spend my day sitting on the bed like some young whelp.”

  Shrugging her shoulders, she looked away. “Fine. I just figured a grown man would own more than one pair of pants.”

  “I did until I cut my leg a few weeks back. There was so much blood, I burned the pants.”

  “You’re hurt? Why didn’t you say so? How bad is it? I’d better take a look at it to make sure it’s healing properly.”

  She came toward him and he put his hand up. “I don’t like to be fussed over.”

  She still came to him. “I’m not fussing. In case you haven’t realized it, you are the only thing keeping us warm and fed. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “Ya washed your hair. It’s pretty.”

  She gave him a pointed look. “Don’t try changing the subject. I intend to see your wound. I can be very stubborn you know.”

  “So I noticed,” he mumbled.

  “I don’t know what you said but I’m sure it wasn’t polite. Now I insist on seeing it. Did it need stitches?”

  “No, I cauterized it with my knife. I’m sure it’s fine.” The cabin suddenly became too crowded. “I’m fine.”

  Samantha eyed him with suspicion. “I’ll give you some time to get used to the idea, but I will see to that leg.” She turned and walked to the clothesline, rearranging the garments. He could tell by the tautness of her spine she was mad. It was too bad. He didn’t want her touching him anywhere.

  In his clean clothes, Brian approached him. Putting his elbows on Patrick’s knees he looked up at him. “Don’t make Ma mad. You’d better show her the cut.” He nodded his head solemnly.

  He would have laughed at the seriousness but Brian had been on the other side of mad. “Maybe I’ll show her later. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of upset.”

  “No, sir, you don’t.”

  “Been getting enough to eat here?”

  Brian stood up straight and pulled his shoulders back. “I sure have. Best food I’ve had in a very long time. Solomon, he only let me eat what he didn’t. Some nights he’d eat big and there wasn’t m
uch for me. You have to be grateful for what you got.”

  “Does your ma do the cooking at home?”

  “Ain’t got no—” His eyes grew wide and he slapped his hands over his mouth. Slowly he took his hands from his face and smiled. “I mean yes, she’s a good cook.” Brian smiled and shrugged.

  Something stunk and maybe, just maybe, it was Brian who was the stinking liar. Before he opened his mouth, Samantha stood behind Brian with her hands on his shoulders. “It’s fine Brian. It’s no use trying to lie.” She gave his shoulder a squeeze and stared. “You see, you were right all along. Brian is mine. I don’t know why I denied it. I mean, I really have no idea.”

  “Lass, ya are full of malarkey. But I do admire the way ya stuck up for the boy.”

  As her shoulders relaxed, she let out a big sigh. “I can explain.”

  “I think I know the way of it. Brian, I don’t cotton to no lyin’, but ya did it to keep yourself safe. It could be considered by some as a smart move. Just like Samantha claiming ya just now, she did it to protect ya. I’m not throwing either one of ya out, so the truth from now on out would be appreciated.”

  Brian got up and flung himself at him. “I didn’t want to lie.”

  “It’s okay. We’ll get it all worked out.”

  Glancing at Samantha, his insides warmed at the big smile of approval she sent his way. His stomach did a flip and he told himself to look away but he just couldn’t. Basking in her smile was a feeling like no other. She made him feel worthy.

  Finally, he blinked and looked away. “So, the wagon train story is true.” He pulled Brian up onto his knee. “Let’s hear the real Solomon story.”

  Brian’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

  “It’s fine. I just need to know if someone will be looking for ya. Is he your pa?”

  “No…no, sir. He found me in a place called Denver. My parents had died and the orphanage was a damned place. I slipped out one night intending to make it on my own.”

  “How old are you really?”

  “I’m seven.”

  Patrick nodded. “Go on.”

  “I was making my way down an alley, trying to figure my next move when Solomon caught me. He’s really tall and he’s plenty strong. Not as big as you, but big. He lifted me like a sack of potatoes, hauled me to his wagon, and knocked me out. I woked up and it was mornin’ and my hands and feet were tied. I thought for sure he was gonna kill me. He kept traveling west that day, barely looking at me, and I didn’t get no food or water. I remember I was a might thirsty. A few days later he untied my hands and let me eat his scraps and he gave me a mouthful of water. He tied my hands again and that’s how we went for a long time.”

  “Did he say why he was heading west?” Patrick asked.

  “He talked about gold and silver and treasure along the way. Oper…oper...opportunities were plentiful.”

  Samantha walked to them and stroked Brian’s shoulder. “I’m sorry he stole you. You’re safe now.”

  Patrick watched her hand on Brian’s shoulder, comforting him in a motherly way. He couldn’t remember if his mother had ever done the same for him. She’d died when he was young and his father wasn’t an affectionate man. Hell, he wasn’t even nice half the time. He was glad he didn’t have the same hunger for whiskey as his father.

  He stood Brian up and then stood himself. He grabbed his coat, rifle, and snowshoes. “I’m going to check a few of the closer traps.” He opened the door then turned toward Samantha. “Your idea about the buckskin is a good one.” Out into the cold he went.

  Chapter Three

  “I can’t believe you’re seven. I should have figured it all out. Really there is a big difference between four and seven,” Samantha commented as she cut Brian’s hair. “Stop squirming, these shears aren’t the sharpest.”

  “My hair was just fine before you started hacking at it.”

  “Don’t you want to look good?”

  Laughter filled the kitchen. “For what? Have you looked at Patrick? His hair is much longer and he has a beard. There ain’t no one to see us.”

  “Isn’t not ain’t and we see each other.”

  “So?” Brian turned to look at her.

  “I don’t know, honestly. A person should always strive to look and act civilized.”

  “Is that why they kicked you off that wagon train? You were too bossy?”

  She put the shears on the table and placed her hands on her hips. “No, that is not the reason and I am anything but bossy.”

  The door flew open and Patrick crossed over the threshold carrying two big fish with him. “Bossy huh? Ya know you’re right.” He smiled at her and raised his eyebrows. “How are ya on cooking fish?” His smile lightened her heart.

  “’bout fair to middlin’. It’ll just have to be a chance you take.” The softening of his eyes caused her face to warm. His handsome, strong features intrigued her but nothing could ever come of it. This was not the kind of life she dreamed of. The cabin gave her shelter but she needed a community. What about church or school for Brian? She took the offered fish and when she saw they were already gutted she wanted to cry. Her pa had never gutted fish for her ma, even though she hated doing it.

  “It’s a chance I’m willing to take,” he answered softly.

  Did he have a hidden meaning behind his words or was she imagining things? “How long do you expect winter to last?”

  He took off his hat, coat and gloves. “It’ll be a good four months or so. Probably more since it started so early. Chigger led those people to their deaths, I’m betting. I looked around to see if I could see anyone else wandering around. Not much going on at all in the woods. No sign of Solomon either. I’m just going to warm up a bit and look in on Ahern. Brian, would you like to go with me to the barn?”

  “Yes!”

  His excitement gladdened her heart. As she glanced at Patrick, it surprised her to find him studying her. Their gazes locked and it took everything she had to pull her gaze away from him. His eyes mesmerized her somehow and it unsettled her. He’d said his dad was Irish, that’s where he probably got his blue eyes. His skin was more of a bronze color, probably from his mother. He carried a great hurt in his heart. Sometimes he’d brood, and she’d see a flicker of anguish in his eyes.

  What caused his sadness? She’d never ask. He said he lived up here in the mountains to be away from people. Poor man was stuck with her and Brian. Glancing his way, she blushed. He still stared at her. He raised his left eyebrow and she blushed deeper. There must be something wrong with her. She wasn’t some young girl with a crush on a man. She was more the level-headed type who didn’t believe in great romance. It was far better to be practical. Surviving and making a life consisted of hard work, not racing hearts and secret glances.

  “I found these shears and I think I can use them to cut the deer skin. I hate to ask, but would you put on your other shirt so I can take a look and see how the shirt you’re wearing is made?”

  She expected a no, but he stood up and took off his shirt. Her jaw dropped. He was all muscle and she’d never seen the like. His shoulders were broad and his chest well-muscled with a sprinkling of dark hair. His stomach was flat with amazing definition. A trail of his dark hair started under his belly button and disappeared under his waistband. Her stomach quivered as she stared. Her gaze traveled upward, taking in his magnificent body. She hadn’t realized how much she stared until she reached his face, and he grinned. His head tilted and he cocked his left eyebrow.

  She gasped, grabbed his other shirt, and threw it at him. “I don’t want you to get cold.”

  “It seems to have warmed up nicely in here,” he responded with a lilt of laughter in his voice.

  She wanted to turn away but her feet seemed rooted to the floor. “Brian, get ready to go out and see Patrick’s horse. He’s warmed up now and can take you.”

  Patrick threw back his head and laughed loud and deep. “I’m warmed from head to toe, thank ya. Come on, Brian, let’s
go see Ahern and get supplies to make ya some snowshoes.”

  “Yes, sir!” Brian was ready and standing at the door in no time.

  Patrick was quickly by his side. “Let’s go, lad.” Before he closed the door behind him, he threw her another grin.

  When the door finally closed, she slumped into a chair and covered her burning cheeks with her hands. Land sakes, what have I gotten myself into? Closing her eyes she took deep slow breaths to still her erratic heart. He made her feel things she’d never felt before and she didn’t like it one bit.

  Samantha was downright ignoring him. Since he and Brian returned, she hadn’t glanced at him once. She listened intently to Brian while he told her all about Ahern and how to make snowshoes. Smiles were plentiful for the child, but none for him.

  Now he remembered why he stayed away from women—they were all crazy. The way she looked at him earlier was most likely curiosity but she scorched his insides. Getting her naked and on his bed became a vision he could not get out of his head. Good thing Brian was around or he’d have scooped her up, put her on his bed, undressed her slowly, and buried himself inside her.

  His hands shook slightly as desire ran through his veins. The cabin closed in on him and it was suddenly too small. The sound of horses alerted him, and he quickly grabbed his rifle.

  “Get back and try to stay out of sight.” Samantha looked stricken and he wished he had the time to reassure her. He opened the door and stepped outside, closing the door firmly behind him.

  Utes, four braves and a woman, their horses making a straight line in front of the cabin. It was surprising they’d made it through the snow with the horses. He recognized two of the older ones to be of his mother’s band. He never sought them out, but occasionally they would spot each other in the woods.

  Patrick nodded. “What brings ya here on such a cold day?”

  One of the braves pushed the woman to the ground and she landed with a loud thump, but she didn’t cry out.

  “Mountain Man, we allowed your mother to go with your father without a bride price. Now it is up to you to pay,” the Indian known as Fierce Wind said.