Romancing the Wilderness: American Wilderness Series Boxed Bundle Books 1 - 3

by Dorothy Wiley

  Unprepared for what Lucky just said, Sam saw Stephen’s face cloud with uneasiness. Stephen was probably worried that he had brought Jane and his girls to even more danger, and he may have. They would certainly need to take great care when they selected and claimed their land.

  He gave Stephen a look telling him to calm down. Stephen rolled his eyes and then leaned back in his chair.

  Sam turned back to Lucky. “Are there any speculators that are honest, ones a man could trust?”

  “An honest speculator? Now that’s something to make a man scratch his head.” Lucky sniggered as he thought for a moment before continuing. “That man that brought William in here—Tom Wolf. He just left before you three came in. He has a reputation for honesty, despite his name. Don’t have any idea how much he’s selling land for though.”

  “I’ll be talking to the gentleman at the Land Office tomorrow,” Sam said, “about a Bounty Grant for my service in the Revolution.” He turned toward Stephen. “We’ll find some good cattle land near my land grant.”

  “The Land Office won’t open until the first of the month, but you should receive a larger and better grant because of your rank Captain. At least that’s what I’ve heard,” Lucky said.

  “Hope you’re right,” Sam said, lighting his pipe. He inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet and pungent smell.

  “I’m certainly disappointed that we have to wait several days,” Stephen grumbled.

  “Nothin’ to be done about that,” Bear said. “It’ll give you a chance to rest up some.”

  “I’m not interested in rest, I’m interested in land,” Stephen said, his expression darkening with worry.

  “I would advise you men to be more than a little careful about the land you choose. Men fight each other here over land about as often as they fight the Indians or fight over women. Maybe more,” Lucky said. “And don’t set your homes up too close to the river. Come a big rain here one night. That water really got to running. Washed out a number of folks.”

  Sam and Stephen exchanged glances. They would have thought of that, but it was a good reminder. He had read that the rivers here could crest far above their normal levels and their banks often spread beyond what people would expect.

  “There’s good land out yonder, but you have to go get it, it ain’t coming to you,” Lucky said.

  “Tell me, how far is yonder?” Sam asked, smiling at the man’s term.

  “Can’t tell you. It’s just where you need a horse to get to it,” the older man replied.

  On their way back to camp, Sam thought about Lucky and chuckled as he said, “That Lucky McGintey is a tough old fellow. He’s got a lot of bark on him.” He hoped they would meet again, maybe even become friends in the weeks ahead.

  “I didn’t like what he had to say. It would be a hell of a note to have come this far and not be able to get the land we need,” Stephen said, nearly growling.

  “It’s too soon to worry. Don’t borrow trouble,” William said. “In a few days, we’ll find Mr. Wolf and seek his help. He told me where his office is but said he would be gone for a few days visiting his son.”

  After that, the men hardly spoke at all until they reached their camp.

  Deep in thought, Sam let Stephen and William tell the others about their conversation with Lucky McGintey. For some reason, he couldn’t keep his eyes off Catherine as she listened intently to what his brothers said. What was she thinking? Was she considering finding her own land? Or was she going back to Boston? And why, for heaven’s sake, did the woman have to look so beautiful just sitting there? Her figure was curving and regal and her fiery eyes gleamed, full of life and warmth.

  “If Daniel Boone’s having trouble keeping his land, it makes me wonder how we’ll fare,” John said, sounding worried.

  Sam reluctantly forced himself to refocus his attention on the conversation.

  “It is difficult to comprehend,” Stephen agreed. “The man is a legend.”

  “Even legends sometimes struggle with life, and the law,” William said.

  “We’ll get our land,” Sam pronounced, recognizing it sounded, even to him, more like a threat than a promise.

  Catherine glanced over at him, her eyes sharp and assessing. She remained motionless for a moment, then hugged her arms to her.

  As his eyes met hers, he saw a spark of some hidden emotion.

  If he wasn’t mistaken, it was longing.

  Chapter 5

  Sam carefully wiped the long maple stock of his Kentucky rifle. Keeping the rifle clean helped the weapon to perform well, and that could mean the difference between life and death.

  Like Sam, Stephen and William immediately fell in love with the weapon and both brothers sat next to him, cleaning their rifles as well. Before they left, he’d used most of his savings to purchase new Kentucky rifles, made by Pennsylvania gunsmiths, for each of the men and one for Jane as well. He taught them all to use the newly designed lighter rifles, and the exceedingly accurate weapons enabled them to protect themselves and to acquire a steady supply of food.

  “What makes these weapons so accurate?” Stephen asked.

  “First and foremost, the skill of the German gunsmiths in Pennsylvania. And, the long narrow barrel gives powder more time to burn, increasing the muzzle’s velocity and accuracy.”

  “I know you can shoot the wings off a bee a hundred yards away, but I need more practice with this rifle,” Stephen told him.

  “Preferably on four-legged creatures,” he said. “How about a hunt tomorrow?”

  “It might do us all good to just rest for a day or two. If Bear, William, and John will stay with the women and children, you and I can stretch our legs some. I feel like I’ve developed bow legs from sitting on George for so long,” Stephen said. “I never thought I could grow weary of being in the saddle, but I am beginning to think I am.”

  “Indeed,” William agreed, “my ass feels like it’s turned to rock. Of course, I’ll stay with them. Where else am I going to go?”

  Sam knew better than to ask William to come along. William only enjoyed hunting outlaws.

  “You’re a pretty fair shot already Stephen, but do you think you'll ever be as good as Sam?” William asked.

  “If I could be half the shot Sam is, I’d be happy,” Stephen said. “I saw him win a shooting contest once. They pounded nails into boards, and set them off a fair distance. The shooter who could hit the nail on the head would win. Our brother was the only shooter there who hit the nail on the head.”

  “That sounds like our big brother,” William said, smiling at Sam.

  Bear and the children were relaxing, stretched out underneath a massive Sycamore closer to the river.

  “Bear, can you join us a minute?” Stephen yelled down to him.

  Bear ambled back to the wagons and Stephen asked, “Sam and I are going hunting in the morning—stretch our legs some—will you stay with the ladies and children? I’m sure they’re safe here, but I’d feel better if you remained here to be certain they are.”

  “Aye,” Bear answered, “I’ll be their guardian angel.”

  Sam took in all six and a half feet of Bear from head to toe. “You don’t look much like a guardian angel to me.” Bear wasn’t just tall, he was big and broad. He had hands the size of a frying pan and with legs the size of tree trunks, his booted feet made a sound resembling thunder when he walked.

  “Nae, I’m no Gabriel,” Bear said, shaking his big head and grinning.

  “I know one pretty lady that may need protection from you,” William teased, looking at Bear with amusement in his eyes.

  Sam realized he was obviously not the only one who had noticed Bear’s attempts to gain Catherine’s friendship. Quickly annoyed, he rubbed the back of his neck and pressed his lips together as he struggled to keep his feelings to himself.

  His mood light, William continued to jest. “I think there just might be a wolf lurking around here.” He ambled over to the wagon, put up his cleaning materials, and
retrieved a law book.

  “Wolves,” Bear said, clearly choosing to ignore William’s implication, “are beasts to take seriously, as Stephen knows all too well. Did you know wolves have forty-two teeth, each strong enough to crush bone?”

  Stephen unconsciously rubbed the scar on his neck. If not for his brother’s unfaltering courage, Stephen would be dead. He was lucky to be alive.

  Bear was an expert wolf hunter, having slain many wolves that roamed too close to their New Hampshire town and mounting their heads on posts, the customary way to collect the bounty offered by landowners for their killing. “And they always hunt in packs of at least two,” Bear added, looking directly at Sam.

  Sam boldly met Bear’s gaze straight on. He found a perverse pleasure in the subtle challenge.

  “Wolves or not, while we’re gone,” Stephen said, “I would feel better with you here and standing watch. Will you keep your eyes open?”

  “I’ll keep a careful watch over all of them, even wee William here,” Bear teased, patting William’s shoulder.

  “There’s nothing wee about me where it counts,” William retorted.

  Bear threw back his head and let out a great peal of laughter. Sam and Stephen both chuckled, while William raised a blonde brow and winked at Bear.

  “I’ll be going back to the little ones now. Their spirits have been lifted some by our checkers game,” Bear said. “And Martha’s beat me twice. I need to even the score.”

  “You might as well give up now,” Stephen said, “I can never beat her at that game.”

  Sam found himself wondering whether leaving for a long hunt was such a good idea. His mind raced trying to determine if Bear was just taunting him. Or, would Bear use Sam’s absence as a chance to spend time with Catherine? And why was he even thinking about this? He couldn’t afford to be distracted by romantic notions or get caught up in some competition for a woman’s attention. It was foolish schoolboy jealousy and nothing more.

  Besides, how could he be jealous? He had no interest in the woman. Well, maybe some interest if truth be told. But not now, not yet.

  He slowly exhaled a deep breath, trying to force his thoughts back to their hunt—one of his favorite pastimes. He and Stephen had hunted together since they were boys.

  “Remember when Father used to take us out to hunt?” he asked Stephen. “You and I used to beg him to take us every time he went. You’d even tell him you knew where the deer grazed and, if he took you, you’d show him. He’d laugh, pat you on the back and bring you along.”

  “But John and I only went when he forced us to. We didn’t enjoy it much. John was more content to study mathematics and architecture and I just wanted to practice on my fiddle or jest with mother and sister,” William confessed.

  Sam looked over at John. As usual, he was absorbed in some thick book on architecture.

  “That’s the truth. Father probably had all he could handle anyway taking the two of us. Sam tried to kill anything that moved, and I never wanted to get out of Father’s shadow. I swear that man could walk fast, and he was Indian quiet,” Stephen recalled.

  “He could track like one too. I think he could have trailed a butterfly flying over solid rock,” Sam said.

  “And once he started a track, he kept after it till he found what he was looking for,” Stephen added.

  “Wasn’t much give up in that old man was there,” William said.

  “No there wasn’t,” Stephen agreed.

  “Never knew him to give up on anything,” Sam added.

  “Much like you,” Stephen said.

  “We’ve many fond memories of that mountain,” Sam reminisced. “Strange, the mountain he loved so much killed him.”

  “Don’t think it did. It was the heavy rain that caused the mudslide,” Stephen said.

  Stephen could never blame the land for their father’s death. “Maybe so,” Sam mused. “I know he loved his land. You learned that from him. He was the land and the land was him. He was aware of every tree, every high spot, and low spot, everything there was to know about his place.”

  “Do you think he’d have come with us to Kentucky if he were still alive?” Stephen asked.

  “Don’t know. But I think it would have been his idea for us to go,” Sam said. “He would have wanted you to get the land you need.”

  Stephen smiled at that.

  Would their father have wanted the same for him? Sam suddenly wondered.

  Chapter 6

  Catherine awoke feeling good about the decision she finally made during the night. She’d been restless and unable to sleep for much of the night, and it gave her time to think. After bathing with a wet cloth, dressing, and then putting her hair in a thick braid, all the while trying not to wake Kelly who also slept in her wagon, she climbed out to a stunningly beautiful morning.

  When they had arrived yesterday, she was too tired to notice much of anything. But this morning, the splendor of their surroundings made her gasp in wonder. The warm early morning light poked through a rich tapestry of trees, vines, and brush to reveal the vivid colors of flowers and lush grass. The soft pure air held no hint of the heavy mugginess they’d endured the last few days. In its place, a light wind of cooler air lifted her spirits as well as the leaves of the hardwoods. She raised her chin, relishing the soothing sound and feel of the gentle breeze brushing against her face and through her hair. The soft fragrance of a variety of Aster, Foxglove, and other wildflowers made her expand her lungs and inhale deeply.

  Finally, she would have a day without feeling the rocky movement of wagon wheels beneath her. The wagons wobbled so much so that ever since Kelly arrived with her milk cow, Jane tied a wooden butter churn filled with fresh milk to the side of the wagon every morning. By the evening meal, they all enjoyed creamy butter on their hot biscuits.

  She hated to admit it, but she needed some rest. They all needed a quiet day. She strolled up to the cook fire as Jane, yawning, poured water into the coffee pot and hung it to brew.

  “Good morning,” Jane greeted. “Looks like it will be a quiet one for a change. Stephen and Sam went hunting. They’ve spent so many days with their legs stretched across a horse’s back, they’re starting to waddle when they walk,” she said, with a grin. “They decided they wanted to stretch their legs and we needed some time to rest.”

  “I was just thinking something similar. I’ve spent so much time on that bloody wagon, walking feels strange because the ground isn’t moving.”

  “I agree. Maybe that’s how sailors feel when they’re on land again,” Jane said.

  “Where are the others?”

  “William’s feeding and brushing down the horses and John and Bear took the children to the river to fish for breakfast.”

  “Good, I’m famished,” Catherine said.

  “Polly’s discovered that she loves to fish. I hope they’ll have better luck than John did yesterday evening. I’d enjoy trout or catfish for breakfast. Although I’m so hungry, I think I could eat a whale all by myself,” Jane said chuckling and rubbing her bulging stomach. “This baby has an exceptionally healthy appetite.”

  “Yes, he seems to have grown overnight. Rest sounds marvelous to me. It will be nice to just be in one place for a change, if only for a few days,” she said. “What do you plan to do on this gorgeous day?”

  “More than anything, while we’re here at the river, I want to bathe and wash my hair and clothes. I need to mend Martha’s shoes if I can, maybe make some baby clothes. I brought fabric I can use,” Jane answered.

  “Doesn’t sound like you’ll be getting much rest. At least you can do the mending and sewing sitting down. Remember, you don’t have to do it all in one day. I’ll help you with what I can. I’ve never sewn much though. We used dressmakers in Boston,” she said. “I noticed there’s one in town. I can’t wait to visit that establishment. And I’m sure we could find new shoes in town for Martha.”

  “Catherine, why did you and your husband leave Boston alone?” Jane a
sked.

  “He wanted to get to Kentucky quickly to claim a prime site of land. That’s why he was in such a hurry. He didn’t want traveling with others to slow us down and he was egotistical enough to think he could defend us himself. He figured we’d meet up with other travelers once we got further along into dangerous territory anyway.”

  “What kind of land would justify the hazard of traveling alone?”

  “He never told me much. He possessed some papers about it. He hid the documents in my wagon, but I’ve never read them. Your question reminds me that I need to. Maybe I’ll do that later today. How could I have been married to a man and know so little about him?”

  “From what you’ve told me, it wasn’t much of a marriage. That’s how,” Jane said.

  “Maybe you’re right; he never discussed his affairs with me. I never knew if he was worried about something or if anything good had happened. He considered business affairs ‘too burdensome for a woman’s delicate mind.’ However, I never pressed him for information either. Perhaps it was both our faults.”

  Catherine turned and took a few steps to admire the peaceful view of the Kentucky River. Stephen and Jane’s two oxen and three cattle grazed near the riverbank contentedly devouring thick grass. Birds warbled, chirped, and sang from nearly every tree or flew over the river searching for insects floating on the smooth green water. The melodious notes of a mockingbird’s medley rose above all the other birds.

  Jane walked up behind her and handed her a pewter cup filled with coffee. The brew sent steam into the air before them as they gazed at the river. They both inhaled the fragrant aroma as they waited for the coffee to cool.

  “If I may be frank, your former husband sounds like he was a narrow-minded pompous bloke,” Jane said. “If my husband ever said something like that to me, I would show him how ‘delicate’ parts of the male anatomy are.”

  Catherine laughed, picturing Jane’s knee slamming into her husband. Perhaps she should have stood up to him, as Jane would have. Then she let out a deep breath, knowing that regrets were pointless. “When I marry again, it will be to a man who loves me and will want to share his dreams with me and care about my dreams too. That’s what a marriage should be—two people bound together by love—not alliances arranged to mutually benefit each family.”