Whispered Promise

by Colleen French

  Leah dropped a nightshirt over William's wet head. Bo had been gracious enough to loan her one of her husband's cotton sleeping gowns for him as well as a lady's gown for herself.

  "I know it'll be a right bit short on ye," Bo said setting the white gown with pale blue ribbons down to warm near the fire. "But it'll be a sight comfier than them skins."

  Leah dried William's hair with the cotton towel. "To tell you the truth I've grown so used to the loose-fitting leather that once we reach home, it's going to be hard to put stays back on."

  Bo slapped her waist. "Gave up on such fancies years ago. What the good Lord gave me is what I got. You don't see Bo tryin' to squeeze herself into things that don't fit."

  Leah laughed. "Now it's time for you to go to bed," she told William.

  "You too, Mama? You coming too?"

  "After my bath, yes. But you're going up now."

  "Can Sam come? Can he?"

  Leah picked up a toy cannon off the floor, glancing at the tan hound asleep on the hearth. The dog was so close to the flickering flames that it was a wonder he didn't catch on fire.

  "Please, Mama . . . He won't piddle, I swear it."

  "All right," she conceded with a sigh. "But I'd better not find him in the bed when I come up."

  William bounced away. "Come on, Sam. Come on boy," he said heading for the staircase.

  "I can come up and tuck you in," Leah called after her son.

  "Mother . . ." William moaned from the stairs. "I'll be nine years old soon. Please . . ."

  Leah sighed as boy and dog clambered up the steps. "He's growing up too quickly," she said softly.

  "Guess it's time to have another."

  Leah looked to Bo. Two months ago there had never been the possibility of another child in her life and now suddenly . . . But of course that would complicate matters, especially if Harrison didn't stay with her.

  She pushed the matter from her mind and picked up her cup of tea, draining what was left in the bottom of the cup. She was warm from head to toe and the bath water looked inviting.

  Bo stoked the fire with an iron poker. "Time I turned in. I sleep upstairs too, so don't worry about the boy. Take your time." She winked as she crossed the room to the staircase, removing her apron. "Won't matter if you don't come to bed 'till late, even early morning. Goodnight."

  It wasn't until Bo had disappeared around the turn in the steep staircase that Leah realized Bo was suggesting she might want to go out to the barn to join Harrison.

  What a ridiculous idea.

  She slipped out of her leather clothing.

  She was mad at him and rightfully so. He was only thinking of himself and not William.

  She slid into the hot bath water with a delighted sigh.

  . . . It served him right to sleep alone in the barn.

  She wet her hair and then soaped it. Once it was rinsed, she leaned back in the tub to relax. Her tea cup had somehow found its way to the wooden table next to the tub. It was full of hot tea again. Leah took the cup, balancing it on her knee and sipped.

  Heavens but that brandy was good. There was just enough in the tea to make her warm . . . just enough to allow her to let her thoughts stray.

  It was true she was mad at Harrison, but she couldn't keep from thinking about how nice it would be to have a goodnight kiss. Just one . . .

  Her face grew flushed as she thought of other kisses, kisses more intimate, kisses that made her heart pound and her pulse race.

  After half an hour's time, Leah climbed out of the tub, wrapped her hair in one towel, and dried herself off with the other. She slipped the soft, worn nightgown over her head and chuckled. It barely fell past her knees. But it felt good over her naked body, so soft and warm and comfortable.

  She leaned over the fireplace and rubbed her wet hair in the towel. Was there anything more glorious feeling than that of clean hair? She shook her head, letting the heat of the fire dry it. Instead of finding her brush in her leather bag hanging on a peg near the door, she just combed it with her fingers. She knew her hair would dry wild and curly without a brush to tame it, but what did it matter? Who would see her anyway?

  With her hair dry, Leah guessed it was time to turn in. She drained the tea in her tea cup. Time to go to bed, but maybe she should go out to check on Harrison . . . just to see if he needed anything.

  Leah slipped her feet into her moccasins, tied them and grabbed Bo's red wool cloak off a peg near the door. Bo had taken her own cloak to the back to be beaten and brushed to clean it. Leah was certain Bo wouldn't mind, after all, she was just borrowing it for a moment.

  Leah guessed she should take a lantern, but decided against it. After all, she was just cutting across the yard. The barn wasn't far.

  She slipped out into the darkness and immediately pulled the hood up over her damp hair. It was snowing again and the wind was howling in the distance. She ran toward the shadow of the barn, cold and just a little frightened. It wasn't far across the frozen yard.

  Leah pulled at the barn door and it creaked. "Harrison?" she called softly. She walked inside, letting the door swing shut on its leather hinges behind her.

  There was no answer, but she could see the glow of a lantern coming from the rear, behind the stalls. The barn was warm and smelled of sweet hay and warm animals. Leah had always loved the smell of clean barns.

  "Harrison?"

  A sound behind her made her jump. "Oh!"

  "What the hell are you doing out here?"

  She turned to see Harrison standing beside her, his knife in his right hand. She took a step back. "I came to say goodnight."

  He lowered the knife and slipped it into the sheath in his belt. He must have found hot water too because his hair was damp and she could smell the scent of shaving soap. "You came to apologize?"

  "No." She stepped closer, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Let's just agree to disagree." She looked up at him. With his clean shaven face and black hair falling over his shoulders, he was the most handsome man she'd ever laid eyes on. "Could we do that?" she asked softly, a touch of sensuality in her voice. She lifted up on her toes to kiss him.

  Their lips brushed. "First you fight with me and then you want to make love?"

  She touched her tongue to his lower lip. "Mmmhmmm."

  He chuckled deep in his throat, dropping one arm over her shoulder. "And what if I tell you no?"

  She pressed her mouth to his in a slow, provocative kiss. "Then I guess it's your loss."

  Harrison gave a groan of surrender as she wrapped her arms around his neck and molded her warm body to his. "What are you wearing under this?" he murmured as he slipped his hands under the borrowed cloak to encircle her waist.

  "Not much."

  "Just the way I like you."

  "Shhh," she hushed. "No talking, else we'll be bickering again. Just love me, Harrison. Touch me the way I like to be touched."

  He stared down at her with those black eyes she had fallen for so many years ago. "How could I not, my sweet Leah? My redbird?"

  When their mouths met, her kiss was all fire. She pressed her breasts to his chest and he brought one hand up to cup the inviting roundness.

  "Why can I never get enough of you?" he murmured as he brushed his fingertips over the thin cotton of her gown, refamiliarizing himself with every curve of her feminine form.

  They kissed again and again, their tongues twisting in passion. She tasted like honey to his lips. She smelled of the forest pines and fresh, clean hair. He was intoxicated by her touch and her husky, whispered words of encouragement.

  "Best I take you where we'll be more comfortable, before I take you here," he whispered in her ear.

  She looked up at him, her eyes hooded with desire for him. "Standing up? Something we should try, I think."

  Harrison's breath was warm in her ear as he chuckled and swept her into his arms. She snuggled against his chest. He carried her to the rear of the barn where a narrow bunk stood near a woodstove. He lowered her to t
he bed, and she rolled out of the red cloak. The nightgown Bo had loaned her was hiked up around her bare hips revealing more than it covered.

  His gaze never straying from her face, Harrison tugged his tunic over his head. He yanked off his moccasins and tossed them in a pile. Then came the leather leggings. He climbed into the bed beside her in nothing but his leather loin cloth.

  Leah giggled, pulling the red cloak over them to ward off the chill in the air.

  "Where was I before I left you, madame?"

  Leah pushed on one elbow, pulling open the deep neckline of the gown. "Here, I believe, sir."

  "Ah yes, the breasts."

  Her giggle turned to a purr and then a soft moan as he took her nipple between his lips and sucked gently.

  Instinctively, Leah pressed her hips to Harrison's. The feel of his hot, stiffening rod against her bare leg made her wiggle against him until they fitted together just right.

  She drew her fingertips over his broad shoulders, across his back. She touched one male nipple with her thumb and then pushed him onto his side to kiss as she had been kissed.

  "Too much clothing," he murmured in her ear as he tugged on her gown.

  First he removed her moccasins. Then, she allowed him to pull the gown over her head, but instead of tossing it to the barn floor with their other clothing, he took the soft, filmy material and brushed it lightly over her bare breasts.

  Leah sighed, letting her eyes drift shut. The combination of the soft cotton brushing over her skin and the rough touch of Harrison's work-worn hands sent shivers of delight through her veins. He brushed the gown down her arms, across her belly, over her thighs and down her legs. Every nerve in Leah's body was alive with sensation.

  A heat was rising in the pit of her stomach. She felt herself growing warm and wet at her woman's place. When she felt his fingers brush over the soft mound of red curls she moaned, raising her hips to meet his touch. He slipped his fingers between the soft folds and she heard herself cry out in pleasure.

  "Leah, Leah . . . " He kissed the flat plane of her belly, tracing a line of hot, wet, kisses lower.

  Leah rolled her head back and forth in protest, threading her fingers through his thick black hair. "No," she whispered. "I want you inside me . . ."

  "Patience," he answered, stroking her breasts with one hand as he rested his cheek on her belly. "Patience, sweet. Relax and let this man love you, ki-ti-hi. "

  With a sigh, she let her body go limp, surrendering to the power of his touch, of his kiss. Leah's emotions spiraled out of control as he drew her higher and higher, fanning the flames of her longing.

  Leah thought to stop him. She wanted to make love, to feel him inside her, but all conscious thought slipped from her mind. All that mattered was the glorious waves of pleasure that washed over her again and again. Past the point of return, Leah lifted her hips to his mouth, crying out in ecstasy . . . and then crying out again.

  Tears of pleasure ran down her cheeks as he shifted positions. The next thing Leah knew he was looking down at her, kissing her gently. He tasted of her.

  "More?" he whispered. "Or shall we sleep, my love?"

  Leah parted her thighs. She needed to feel the strength of him. "More," she whispered.

  With one thrust he entered her and she moaned with pleasure. She clung to his shoulders, her control gone. She lifted her hips again and again to meet his thrusts, heat burning in her loins again.

  Leah heard Harrison whisper her name. She was lost again in the sea of her pleasure in perfect sync with his rhythm. Her moans mingled with his as they moved faster, harder . . .

  And then her world burst again with fingers of ultimate pleasure. In unison they cried out and then laughed as they floated back to reality still locked in their lover's embrace.

  When Harrison could catch his breath, he rolled off her, cradling her in the crook of his arm. He kissed her cheek. "K'daholel, ki-ti-hi, my Leah."

  She pushed up on her elbow to look down at his strikingly handsome face. His forehead was dotted with perspiration. She traced the line of the cut he'd received a few days ago. "What does it mean? "K'dohol, ki-ti-hi?" she pronounced awkwardly.

  "It means I love you, my heart. It's actually a Delaware phrase."

  She couldn't pull her gaze from his. "It's beautiful." She kissed him softly, not as a lover but as one who loves. "I have to go," she whispered, climbing over him to retrieve the rumpled night gown. "William."

  He went to say something, then didn't. "I'll walk you back."

  She laughed. She could still feel the heat of his touch on her skin. "No. It's just across the yard. You get some sleep." She dropped the gown over her head and then sat on the edge of the bed to lace up her moccasins.

  He tugged on the nightgown as she stood to throw the borrowed wool cloak over her shoulder. "I wish you could stay. I wish I could hold you."

  "I know." She kissed him again. "Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning." She turned away before she could change her mind. She wanted to crawl into the bunk with him and sleep in the safety of his arms, but her duty was to her child. He was there in a strange house, in a strange bed. He might need her in the night.

  Leah stepped outside the barn and closed the door behind her. A cold, stiff wind tugged at the hem of the cloak and she lifted her hood. It was a dark night. The snow was still falling, swirling to alter her vision. There was a strange silence in the air . . . almost eerie.

  Leah chuckled to herself for being so silly. She wasn't afraid of the dark. She wandered all over Tanner's Gift without a lantern.

  She started across the yard. Ahead she thought she could see the dark form of the log cabin, but she wasn't sure. In the snow everything looked different than it had when she'd come to the barn. It was so dark out now.

  Suddenly she hit something hard and stationary. She cried out with surprise, her heart skipping a beat. She squinted, cautiously putting out her hands to feel what she hit.

  A tree.

  She laughed aloud. She'd veered off the path to the house and run straight into a tree! She remembered seeing it now when she'd gone to the barn. She turned right a little and started for the cabin again. She was sleepy from the lovemaking and the thought of the warm, down tick upstairs was becoming more inviting with every passing moment. She'd get a good night's sleep and then—

  Something out of the darkness grabbed her. Leah screamed but her voice was muffled by a large masculine hand.

  Her first thought was Harrison . . . it was Harrison playing a trick on her.

  The man pulled her roughly against him and Leah knew it wasn't Harrison. She trembled with fear. "Kolheek?" she mumbled beneath the palm.

  He started to drag her across the yard, his hand still held tightly on her mouth. No one would hear her screams. No one would know he'd taken her until morning.

  Kolheek, you bastard . . .

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  William rolled onto his side and dropped his arm over Sam's warm body. The dog whined contentedly and crawled deeper into the feather tick bedding. He pushed his head beneath the boy's hand.

  "Good boy," William mumbled sleepily. "Good dog."

  Sam licked his face and William laughed, opening his eyes. He and the dog were alone in the tiny whitewashed room.

  "Hey there, hound!" William rolled onto his back and petted the dog roughly, laughing when he climbed onto his chest. "Where's Mama? Seen her?" He sat up in bed wiping the sleep from his eyes. "I guess you'd best get out of bed before she comes up and catches you." He pushed the dog.

  Sam jumped down on the floor and waddled to the door on his three good legs.

  "That foot's healing fine, isn't it, Sam?" William asked, watching the dog.

  Sam whined and scratched at the door.

  The boy heaved a sigh. "Out? Is that what you want? You want to go outside and do your business?" He hopped out of bed, pushed his sleeping gown down, and padded barefoot across the cold floorboards. He opened the door and Sam bolted.


  William followed him down the winding steps to the main room of Bolene Harris's tavern.

  "Good morning, boy."

  William nodded politely, pointing to Sam. "Morning. Dog has to go out." He lifted the latch and Sam darted through the door out into the snow.

  "Close that door, child, else you'll blow out my fire with that wicked wind. The dog'll be all right for a minute or two."

  William closed the door and walked to the fireplace to get his moccasins. "Have you seen my mother?"

  "Not yet." Bo was busy whipping up some sort of batter in a bowl.

  William frowned. "She must have gotten up early and gone out with him."

  Bo set her spider griddle close to the burning fire in the hearth. "Him? What makes me think you don't like your mother's friend much?"

  William shoved his feet into his moccasins. "Because I don't," he answered sourly.

  Bo dropped a little bacon fat on the spider and watched it melt and run. "He hurt you?"

  William tugged at the strings of his knee high moccasins. "Nope."

  "Talked mean to you?"

  "Yes, well . . ." He made a face. "I was kind of ugly first, but that's no excuse. I'm just a little boy."

  Bo turned her face away so the boy couldn't see her smile. "Sounds like a dollop of jealousy to me."

  William jumped up, letting his sleeping gown fall over the tops of moccasins. "Do we have to talk about him?"

  "No. Don't have to. What you do is your business. I'm just thinkin' it's a shame, your mama likin' him so much, maybe even lovin' him and you bein' a burr in her drawers the way you are."

  William stood there, his arms limp at his sides. "They say he's my father, but I think they lie. Both of them. My papa was an officer in Washington's army." He smiled proudly. "Captain Edmund Beale." The smile dropped. "But he's dead now."

  "And your mama's alone."

  "She isn't alone." He walked back toward the door, impatient with the woman's nosy questions. "She's got me. I'll be the new master of Tanner's Gift, once we reach home."

  Bo poured a cup of batter onto the flat surface of the spider and it spit and sizzled. "She has got you. But a woman needs more than children. She needs a man, just like someday you're going to need a woman for yourself."