Romancing the Wilderness: American Wilderness Series Boxed Bundle Books 1 - 3
Page 22
He tugged Jane close to his side and peered into her eyes, sparkling now in the firelight. Holding her again made him giddy with happiness. She had forgiven him and all of a sudden, he wanted to celebrate. He cackled inelegantly, as he struggled to hold back his bubbling joy. He started to laugh, then snorted when he tried to stop, and that made him laugh even harder. Then he all but cried. All his emotions were surfacing at once. He needed to do something quick or Jane would think he’d lost his mind.
“I think we need some whiskey tonight,” he proposed. A chuckle erupted from him. He fought to smother it, but it only made his mirth worse. Then Jane started giggling, and it made his jollity worse still. Every time she laughed, he would too. He had never giggled this much in his life. Hell, he couldn’t remember ever giggling. What was wrong with him?
“Bear…would you kindly… fetch some whiskey from the wagon?” he finally managed to ask.
The others, all laughing or smiling now too, stared at him in amazement. He was always the last to suggest strong beverage.
“I’ll get the cups,” he said, ignoring their questioning looks, and finally regaining control of himself.
Bear opened the jug and poured a modest amount for each of the ladies and, as was customary, a more generous portion for the men.
Stephen raised his cup for a toast, a rare gesture for him that left even Jane’s mouth gaping open. “To our brother Edward, who gave us this worthy beverage. We miss him, but hope he and his are well and prospering.”
In his grief, Stephen decided Edward had been right. Now, he realized they had both been right. If he could have prevented his daughters’ deaths by staying in New Hampshire, he would have. But there was no way to know that. He knew only one thing for sure. He was not giving up.
“To Edward,” they all repeated.
Stephen took a hearty gulp and then did something even more unusual for him. He smiled at each of them as he slowly looked around the campfire. “I guess you are all wondering what rock I hit my head on or some such thing. Well, not every night is a man and his family reunited,” he said, looking at Jane, “not only safe, but blessed with another member. Kelly has decided to join us and to head towards Kentucky. Kelly, you should feel as a sister to us.
“We also have the good fortune of Catherine’s company. Jane tells me that you have been a companion and helpmate to her in my absence. I thank you for that Catherine. You too are welcome. I hope that we can ease the burden of losing your husband. To Kelly and Catherine, may our family be your family.”
Everyone drank again except Kelly who still hadn’t tasted the liquor.
Stephen noticed that she only stared at the cup, fear in her eyes. He suspected she had never tasted whiskey and had only seen its abuse by her father. He casually ambled over and stood next to her, and said, “Kelly, strong drink should be consumed only in moderation. When consumed in excess, it can cause men, and women for that matter, to behave unsuitably. A small amount won’t do much more than warm your insides. But you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to. You’re an adult now, and it’s your choice, no one else’s.”
She titled her head in a nod, seeming to appreciate his brotherly advice. Kelly cautiously sipped and managed not to choke on it, then wrinkled her nose and shook her head.
He chuckled at her. “It takes some getting used to.”
“Thank you Stephen for your kind toast,” Catherine said. “I’ll be forever indebted to you and William for finding my husband’s killers and recovering my property—especially James’ steed.” She left unsaid that they had killed the murderers too.
“I thank you too, Mr. Wyllie,” Kelly echoed, “and you too William.”
“Let’s have some fun for a change,” William suggested. He strode over to the wagon to retrieve his violin.
They spent the warm evening in relaxed conversation and storytelling, while William supplied a medley of popular tunes in the background. Kelly sat spellbound next to William the entire time, tapping her foot and enjoying the music immensely. She told them she had only heard music once before when her Ma had taken her to town when she was very young.
John had taken first watch, while Bear and Sam stood around Catherine, who sat on her trunk. Stephen and Jane watched with amusement as the two men took turns exchanging exaggerated truths and stories, clearly competing for the most heroic or colorful tale. Nearly as skilled a storyteller as Jane, Bear seemed to be winning this round.
“‘Twas the darkest and hottest night I’ve ever spent in the wild. Na moon at all and clouds covered the wee stars. The air hung still and muggy. As ye know, I’m furred much like a bear, and in the hotter months, these heavy buckskin-huntin’ shirts are a curse. I decided maybe the best way to cool off was a dip in the river without clothes at all. I hiked about fifty yards down to the river from my camp. I moved slowly into the cool water, easin’ into it, when several squaws came out of the woods on the opposite bank. They were blitherin’ happily, as women often do when doin’ chores together. When they saw me, they screamed, ‘wendigo, wendigo,’ and pointed at me.”
Their group roared with laughter. Most had heard the story several times before, but it seemed more amusing each time Bear told it.
Bear scowled at them but continued the story. “Ye are probably are na aware, Catherine, but the Indian man is hairless on his face and chest. So, to them, I appeared more animal than man. They ran hysterical and screamin’ back to their camp. I could hear their screams for a long while.”
Bear paused they were all laughing so hard. “I was na goin’ to wait around to see if they had any braves willin’ to hunt a wendigo at night, so I made my way back to my camp, packed up and scampered out of there.”
“What’s a wendigo?” Catherine asked.
“’Tis an Indian name for an inhuman, supernatural demon creature capable of changing from a man into a beast—usually a bear. The bear hunts on moonless nights and rips to shreds any man or woman it finds. It kills for the pure pleasure of it. Na human is strong enough to defend against it,” Bear explained.
“We do become more like wendigo than men when we fight,” Sam said, turning serious.
“Aye, Captain. True enough. In battle, we are more beast than man,” Bear said, taking a large swallow of his second cup of whiskey.
“Sometimes a man must become savage to survive,” Sam said.
As he did the first night they came together to discuss going to Kentucky, Stephen hoped that when the time came, he and his brothers would be savage enough to survive the violence of the wilderness.
Sam took a sip of his whiskey and returned to storytelling. “The beast that gets under my skin is the panther, and one nearly did. She stalked me for a mile or more. I was on foot hunting with my dogs. I prefer to hunt on foot. A horse makes too much noise,” he explained for Kelly and Catherine’s benefit. “Well, this panther stayed downwind of the dogs so they wouldn’t sense her. A panther makes no sound when it moves, but I knew she was there. Every now and then, I could see her burning yellow eyes glowing in the timber. I tried to get her in my sights but she moved too swiftly. A gun is a poor weapon against such a quick-moving animal. I saw her spring from the ground to a tree limb higher than a two-story house. She watched me from her perch for a bit, then she climbed down and slowly crept up behind me. She stalked me silently for some time. All the while, I knew she edged closer and closer. It was just a matter of time before she attacked. At last, she decided to make herself known. First, she just stared at me with pure disdain. I have never had a man look at me with such complete scorn and total contempt. Then, she let out a scream, high and blood-curdling. All the dogs ran, except one. Old King was clearly not fond of the sound of that panther either, but he stuck right by my side, growling deep and fierce in his chest as she approached even closer.”
“What happened?” Catherine asked, spellbound.
“When you can see yourself in the panther’s eye, you know you’re in trouble. The cat and I both understood
we were going to battle. I once saw a panther bring down an elk more than three times its size, so I knew King and I were in for a fight for our lives. She screamed again, like a woman in pain or in terror. This time, it was a warning. A notice that she was about to make a kill. As she sprang toward King, I fired, but she moved so fast, I just nicked her shoulder. He took a wicked claw up his middle and then she went for his neck. She was big, easily more than twice his size. I pulled my knife and jumped her. She took a swipe at my face. That’s where this scar came from,” Sam said, pointing to his chin. “We went a couple of rounds. I felt her claws begin to penetrate my back, and just as my blade found her throat, her jaws wrapped around my arm. She collapsed on her side, my arm still in her mouth. King lifted his head, smelled her hot blood. He saw that I was all right, laid his head back down, and died.”
“Poor King,” Catherine lamented.
“I haven’t had another dog since. I could never find one that good again. I skinned that cat. The beast made a fine rug in my old cabin. I like to think King appreciated it every time I stepped on it,” Sam said, half grinning at the thought.
The stories went on for some time, the whiskey loosening both their memories and their tongues. After the first hour, Stephen grabbed Jane’s hand and briskly led her away from the camp, carrying both their weapons and his cloak. It was time they talked.
And, his body ached for her touch.
Chapter 33
The night sky shimmered like a velvet canopy studded with God’s most perfect diamonds as they strolled away from camp.
“Stephen I know I was brutal with my blame. I just missed Amy and Mary so much it nearly made me lose my mind,” Jane said, her voice near breaking. “I can still smell them on their blankets. Every time I do, it makes me think I can find them if I just look hard enough. And then I realize, there’s nowhere to look.”
He struggled not to let his own pain surface.
“It breaks my heart every time I touch Amy’s doll or Mary’s little cup. I can’t stop those feelings. I’ve tried. God knows I’ve tried.” Jane stopped and turned to face him. “I didn’t want to blame you, but I did. And honestly, a part of me still does. A small part. But I understand now why you had to make this journey. I’m struggling to completely forgive both of us, not just you. Maybe with your help, I can. In the meantime, I promise I want to be by your side. Just be patient with me and for heaven’s sake talk to me.”
He reached for her hand and held it against his chest. That promise was enough for now. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it. My despair—for you and for me—was too overwhelming. You were right. I was responsible. This trip was my doing. Mine. No one else’s. I put their lives in danger. It was a much easier thing to do in Barrington than out here.” He realized he would have to work at forgiving himself. “And when it happened…I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it. It made me feel like I failed both you and them.” The admission wounded him, but he felt better having said it.
“No, you didn’t fail them or me. As Sam helped me to understand, the girls could have died anywhere. Illness often strikes children, no matter where they are.”
He took a deep steadying breath. “I do love you and the children more than any piece of land. You know how much I want land, but I want you more. Without you, land is just dirt. All that is beautiful and important about it is lost. As I told you before I left with William, nothing in this world is more important than my love for you and our family.”
A tear slid down Jane’s check. “We lost two of our girls, but God will bless us with more children, sons as well as daughters.” A shadow fell over her face. “But, if ever we face something like this again, we have to talk to each other. I needed you. I needed to feel your arms around me. But instead, like a fool, I shut you out. I withdrew and you left me alone. The more you stayed away, the angrier I got. Damn it, Stephen, we can’t shut each other out like that ever again.”
“I was trying to give you time to heal. I didn’t shut you out. But I did shut me in. I was afraid to let myself out. You wouldn’t have liked what you saw. You would have stopped loving me.”
“Maybe I did stop loving you for a while.”
“When I rode off with William, I believed you had.” He shuddered at the recollection.
“I’m sorry. I was just so full of rage, I had no room for other feelings. But that’s gone now. There’s still some heartache, but no more resentment.”
“The pain is still there for me too,” he said quietly.
She kissed the back of his hand. “I’ve missed talking to you.”
“I know you’ve been lonely.”
“Yes, though not as much since Catherine’s been with us,” Jane said.
“It’s good that you have some female companionship for a change. What are her plans, do you know?”
“She wanted reassurance that you were amenable to the idea of her joining us. She didn’t want to be a burden.”
“I made my mind up on the way back. For some reason, fate put these two women in our path. I think they were meant to join us. Why, I don’t know. But whatever the reason, it’s the right thing to do.”
“I’m horrified by what happened to Kelly. Do you think she’ll ever get over it?” Jane asked.
“Yes. She seems to be a woman of strong faith. And I think it’s helped to have William treat her with such kindness.”
“She’s a lovely young woman, but the poor girl’s as thin as a reed and wearing a beggar’s clothes. Do you think she’d mind if I gave her a gown? I think I have one that will fit her if she belts it.”
“What she’s wearing is little more than a rag. I don’t believe she’s had a new dress since her mother died about four years ago. Speaking of gowns, is this one getting a little snug?” he asked, wrapping her waistline with both hands.
“It’s not from eating too much. It’s this big son of yours.” She smiled broadly and rubbed her still flat tummy.
His heart leapt. He stopped abruptly, tossed down their rifles and his cloak, and gently placed his hands on either side of her face. “You’re with child again?”
Jane nodded. Her green eyes twinkled with the radiance of pure joy, her sorrow forgotten for the moment.
Her news made his heart dance. He had longed for a son to carry on his name. “A son! But how can you know? That’s impossible.”
“I just do. It’s your first son and he’s going to be a big one. I think he’ll be at least the size of Sam. Unlike the girls, he has me craving food and milk so that I can hardly think of anything else. I think I was more excited to see Kelly’s chickens and milk cow than I was to see you,” she said, her face breaking into a wide smile.
“Have you told the others?”
“Only Catherine. She didn’t understand why I hadn’t told you before you left. But I couldn’t tell you then. I had nothing to share but anger. But now, I want to share this with you.”
He gazed deeply into her eyes. They seemed even greener when she was with child. Maybe it was the magic of new life growing inside of her. He saw a spark there that renewed his determination.
He started pacing as his mind raced. “We’ll need to hurry to Kentucky now. My son’s going to be born on our land—not in some damn wagon.” He realized Jane wanted nothing more herself. She’d want to have her son in a bed in their home. “I promise I’ll build us a fine home there—and our bedroom will have an enormous bed, with plenty of room to make more sons. And daughters, of course.”
“Ah…so you’re already thinking about our bed and how we might use it?”
Stephen felt a smile tug at his lips but ignored her quip. Instead, he gently kissed her, tasting the honeyed whiskey she’d had earlier. He swept her into the circle of his arms. He had missed the feel of holding her. It was like wrapping his arms around heaven.
He wanted to love her, but first, he wanted her to know that she was loved. He continued to just hold her, pressing their hearts together until they nearly beat as one.
She gazed at him with eyes shimmering with happiness. “I’ve missed you.”
“And I you, my darling, with all my heart.” Just looking at her made his blood burn, his desire surge, his heart soar. But he wanted more.
He immersed his hands in her long thick curls. He let his fingers savor the silky feel of her tresses and then he let them wander to the luscious curves of her back and hips. He wanted to touch every inch of her. And he would soon. He stopped his exploration of her body and leaned his forehead against hers. “I hope you’re right about it being a son,” he whispered, “but, I just want you to be safe and well after childbirth. That’s all that matters to me.”
“I haven’t had any serious trouble yet. I’m strong. Many generations of my Scots ancestors birthing big stubborn babies made us especially good at giving birth.”
“That’s not the only thing you’re especially good at,” he said, smiling and moving his hands to explore the curves of her backside. She felt so good to his touch, strong, yet softly feminine. His hands trembled with eagerness.
Maybe he could love her enough to help heal her shattered heart and perhaps soon she could forgive him completely. And, he knew her love would absolutely help to revive his own crushed heart. Together, they could become whole again.
“What else am I especially good at?” she asked, smiling.
“Storytelling.” He touched her lips with his finger.
Her smile lit up the night. “What else?”
“Biscuits.”
She laughed. “What else?”
“Your stew.”
She cackled even harder.