His jaw clenched and his eyes darkened. “She was beaten by a savage man.”
“A … a savage?”
He gave her a cruel smile. “Not all savages are Indian, you know.”
She looked away, embarrassed that he’d read her thoughts. “And … and her child?”
His features softened. “Cub? What about him?”
Anna fiddled nervously with the sash on her robe. “Shy Fawn says you helped her deliver—”
“That was a day to remember.” He continued to smile. “He reminds me of myself more and more each day. Ornery, demanding, noisy.” He took in a deep, contented breath. “He’s already a handful.”
The brief bite of jealousy flared again when Anna heard the pride and love in his voice for Cub. She was instantly contrite. Her foolish jealousy wasn’t aimed at the child, but at the mother. She closed her eyes and willed herself to stop feeling like a schoolgirl with a brand new crush.
“What’s going to happen to all of these children, eventually?”
He looked at the sleeping boy. “I don’t know.”
“Are they all treated so poorly?”
“No.” He turned and gave her a small smile. “Believe it or not, there are a few who treat the children well, even begin to educate them.”
“But how can this happen? Aren’t there any laws to protect these people?” Anna ran her hand over the bandage on his chest, checking for bleeding again. Finding none, she quickly pulled her hands away.
“Around here,” Nicolas answered, unaware of her discomfort, “vigilantes are the law. They’ve decided the best way to deal with the Indian is to eliminate him altogether.”
“But … but what about the federal government? Surely they wouldn’t agree to such atrocious practices?”
He gave her a long, intense look. “You are innocent, aren’t you? The government is three thousand miles away. They have no idea what’s going on. In fact, they’ve sent troops out to round up all the Indians and herd them onto government-appointed land, like stupid, brainless cattle.”
Anna thought about home and all of the Indians she’d seen there while she was growing up. Why, they were everywhere, and she’d never given them a second thought. In fact, she had to admit she’d never considered them individually before. They were just a group of strange people with brown skin and black hair, who often wore clothing the whites had thrown away. And she remembered how drunk and unruly they would get when they’d had too much whiskey.
She also recalled that some of them were cruel. Her mother had feared that cruelty, letting it fester inside her until it had become one of the dominant forces in her narrow and structured life. It had never occurred to Anna that the Indians were only striking back because of what they had lost. She looked down at Nicolas, who was yawning.
“I’m sorry,” she said, standing up. “I’m wearing you out. Are you going to sleep here? With the boy?”
He shook his head. “I’d planned to put him right in the dormitory with the others. I’ve never had a problem with any of the children before.” He sat up with effort, holding his injured side.
“And now?”
Nicolas swung his legs over the side of the cot. “I’ll wake Shy Fawn. She’ll know what to do.”
That prick of envy stung again. “No, you don’t have to do that.”
“Why not?” He gave her a skeptical look.
“He didn’t fight me, remember? Don’t bother Shy Fawn. I can stay here with him.” When Nicolas started to argue with her, she said, “He clung to me. He fell asleep in my arms.”
Nicolas closed his eyes.
“Go,” Anna coaxed. “Go to your own bed.” She gazed down at his handsome, tired face and quelled the urge to touch the jagged surface of his scarred cheekbone. “Please?” she asked when he opened his eyes.
He stood up, towering over her, and suddenly smiled. “You sure are a bossy woman.”
She smiled back. Then his look changed and sent Anna’s heart pounding. She lowered her eyes and looked at her slippers. His fingers touched her chin, and when she looked up at him again, she saw that the warm kindling in his eyes had burst into flame.
When he bent to kiss her, she panicked. “No,” she said sharply, pushing against him. She refused to tempt his moody anger again by responding as she had before. “No,” she repeated firmly, pulling away.
“Fine.” Nicolas abruptly pushed her aside, steadying himself before striding from the stable toward his own quarters.
She watched him leave, tears stinging her eyes. She wanted to go after him, but logic told her it was wise to stay silent and turn away. She had a feeling that anything she tried to say to him would be met with a sneer. She also felt that no matter what she said to him, he was going to believe only what he wanted to believe. She had to protect herself from that. She swiped her tears away roughly with her hand and walked over to check on the child asleep on the other cot.
Nicolas awakened early and winced as he sat up in bed. Another gunshot wound. His body was beginning to look like a weatherbeaten saddle.
He picked up his pocket watch from the bedside table and squinted at it in the gray morning light. Five-thirty. He was to meet Sky at the fork in the trail before seven. He pulled on his pants and his boots, picked up his shirt and shaving kit, and left his room.
As he stepped outside, his gaze went directly to the stable and he wondered how Anna and the boy had slept. He jogged over and stepped quietly inside. His heart raced when his eyes rested on Anna’s empty cot. Had she duped him into believing she was truly concerned about the child, then fled to safety during the night? His glance flew to the other cot, and his heart rate returned to normal. Anna and the boy were curled up together beneath the bedding, her chin resting on top of the boy’s head, her arm draped loosely over his chest.
He went over and looked down at her. A strange warmth rippled across his skin. God, but she was beautiful, lying there with her hair spread out across the pillow and her arm cradling the child. He stood watching her and remembered their kiss. It had sent blood racing to his groin. The fight, the submission, then the erotically hot and steamy exchange. It had made him wonder about her.
Was she just like Sarabeth? Curious about the savage side of him? Sarabeth had acted sweet and innocent, too. At first. She’d been shy and coy, refusing to let him bed her. Then she’d teased and teased until he’d been wild with desire—but she’d pushed him away, and her teary act began all over again.
Anna’s wide, innocent eyes and her eager response to his kisses sifted through his thoughts. Hell, he’d enjoyed it. Dammit, he’d enjoyed it so much he’d found himself trying to kiss her again last night. But she’d pushed him away. It was a game. The same tired, old game all white women played—Tease the Savage. But before that, she’d felt so damned good in his arms. So soft … so tempting … so …
“Good morning.”
Nicolas blinked, his thoughts still lingering on how she’d felt, pulled against him. “Good morning.”
“How is your side?” she asked.
“Not too bad.” He watched her move carefully on the cot so she wouldn’t awaken the boy. He nodded toward the child. “What happened?”
“He woke up and started to whimper. It was easier just to crawl in with him.”
I wish it had been me. He gave his head a violent shake, then looked back at her. Her cheeks, warm and pink from sleep, seemed to beg for his touch, and her smile was soft. She looked like an angel. Sarabeth had looked like an angel, too, remember?
“Nicolas?”
He rubbed his hand over his face. “Yes?”
“What do you want me to do with him when he wakes up?”
“Oh, bring him to Shy Fawn. She’ll be expecting him.” He turned to leave.
“Do you think she’ll mind if I stay with him for a while?”
Nicolas walked to the door. “She has plenty of help.”
“Just a minute.”
Her voice was so sharp, it stopped him. Whe
n he turned again, she was rushing toward him, fury in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“You are what’s wrong.” She planted her fists on her hips and glared up at him.
He looked around as if she were talking to someone else. “What? Me?”
“Why won’t you let me do anything?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you tell the women I wasn’t to help with any of their chores?” she demanded.
He shrugged. “You have your job to do, and they have theirs.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I might like to make my own decisions about my spare time?”
What in hell had gotten into her? “God, woman, I was only trying to—”
“What you were doing,” she said, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him outside so they wouldn’t awaken the boy, “was telling those women I had better things to do than … than help them with their work.”
Sunshine bathed the compound, making Nicolas squint. “You do have better things to do.”
“What?” Her chin was jutting out at a stubborn angle.
“Huh?”
“What ‘better things’ do I have to do with my time when I’m not teaching?”
“Hell, I don’t know,” he muttered. “You must have little white woman things to do in your cabin.”
Anna’s eyes widened in disbelief, then narrowed. “Please, don’t do me any more favors. If I have time on my hands, I’ll do what I please and help whom I please.”
Nicolas would never understand women. He didn’t want her to find any excuse to run away, so he’d purposely made sure she had it easy. Well, by God, if she wanted to work, he’d be sure she had work.
“Madam,” he said coldly as he walked away from her, “you won’t have a minute to yourself.”
Anna threw the bucket of dirty water over the tiny patch of poppies and lupine that grew under the oak trees, then stretched her aching back.
“Miss Anna!”
She looked up and saw June racing across the compound, her expression frantic. She dropped her bucket and met the girl by the cabin. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Ho-lee skunk sweat! What’re you doing?” June picked up the bucket and held it against her chest as if she were afraid Anna would grab it back.
“I’ve emptied the water—”
“Oh, Jeezus, Lord Jeezus!” June hugged the bucket and swayed back and forth fretfully. “While I was washin’ my hair, you was washin’ your own floor.”
Anna let out a deep, tired breath and sat down on the bench under the trees. “Of course. Who else was supposed to do it?”
“I would’ve! Shy Fawn was supposed to tell me—”
“I’ll be doing all my own cleaning from now on, June,” Anna interrupted. She was sure, from Nicolas’s last comment before he had stormed away from her earlier, that she would be doing at least that much, and more.
“Please, Miss Anna,” June pleaded, hugging the bucket tighter, “you might get the fever or the cholera if you work so hard. Nick will get so mad.”
Anna didn’t have the heart to tell her she’d not only scrubbed the floor, but also taken off the bedding, hung it on the line, and given it a good beating before putting it back on the bed.
“June, we have to do something about this awful fear you have of Nicolas. Surely he isn’t going to punish you because I washed my own cabin floor.”
June’s face was still pinched with worry. “I don’t want him to get mad at me.”
“Has he ever been angry with you, June?”
“Well … no. But, holy cow,” she argued, “I don’t ever want him to be, either.”
Anna patted the seat beside her, and June sat down. She fluffed the girl’s damp bangs and ran her fingers through the long wet strands that hung down the girl’s back.
“Well, the deed is done. I talked with Nicolas this morning, and he agreed to let me do whatever work I wanted to. So, don’t worry, all right?” At June’s worried nod, Anna gave her a companionable squeeze.
June reached down and picked up a stick. Pulling her heavy wet hair over her shoulder, she began beating the water from it.
“Here,” Anna said, taking the stick from her. “Let me do that.” She gathered June’s hair in her fist and hit the long mass with the stick. Water sprayed over her face, cooling her.
“You want some food?” June asked.
Anna laughed. “Will it make you feel better if I say yes?”
June ducked her head shyly and studied her bare toes. “I feel better when I have food.”
Anna wondered how many times in her young life June had gone hungry. “You know,” she said pensively, running her fingers through June’s hair, “my mother used to think food cured everything.”
“You have a ma?” June’s voice was filled with a strange longing.
“Oh, yes.”
“Is she pretty, like you?” June sat sideways and drew her thin knees to her chin.
“Oh, I think she’s far prettier.” Anna suddenly longed for her mother’s company.
“I don’t have a ma,” June said wistfully.
Anna felt her sadness. “Do you remember her at all?”
June straightened her legs and wiggled her dust-covered toes. “She died having me.”
“Oh, June. I’m sorry—”
“And you know what? I was s’posed to be buried with her, but this lady who helped birth me wouldn’t let them put me in the ground ’cause I was still breathing.”
Anna gasped. The stick dropped from her hand. “They were going to bury you alive?”
“Yup.” The horror of it seemed to escape June, who had turned, looked at Anna and smiled. “Happened all the time.”
Anna clamped her mouth shut and looked away. What a heartless, barbaric custom. She hugged June close again. “Did this woman raise you?”
June nodded. “But she died, too.” She scooted around on the bench and began braiding her hair. “Everybody died. Then I was at this awful place where no one was nice. Then,” she looked at Anna and beamed, “Nick came and got me.” She clutched her thin arms to her chest. “I love Nick,” she gushed. “But I can’t have him because Shy Fawn wants him.”
June’s innocent statement seeped into Anna’s skin, coating her stomach with a nauseous film. Her heart went knocking foolishly against her ribs, and she broke out into a cold sweat. So, she thought, everyone’s aware of Shy Fawn’s feelings for Nicolas. Unable to think of a reasonable response, she stood up and fussed with her dirty, wrinkled skirt. “Well, I could sure use some dinner, June.”
June hopped off the bench, oblivious of Anna’s anguish. “I’ll be right back,” she shouted over her shoulder as she ran off across the grassy compound.
Anna smiled and waved. As she turned to go into the cabin, June’s innocent words rang in her ears. Shy Fawn wants him. She remembered how Shy Fawn had practically pushed the scrub brush and bucket into her hands when she’d asked about cleaning her cabin. And what about when Shy Fawn had let her drag all that water from the river, knowing full well the water had already been drawn?
Anna went inside and sank into the chair by the fireplace, kicking off her shoes and tucking her feet up under her. Did Shy Fawn find her some sort of threat? She snorted softly and threw a mocking look at the ceiling. Hal Some chance of that. She could moon like a foolish girl all she wanted to. She could wile away her precious time, wondering where he was and what he was doing, and drool, slack-jawed, when he did something so simple as smile at her or tease her. But Shy Fawn had the advantage. She had Cub …
She sighed and took the pins out of her hair, massaging her scalp and running her fingers through the tangles. She burst from the chair abruptly. If Shy Fawn was his woman, why in the name of heaven had Nicolas kissed her? And he’d have done it again, last night, if she hadn’t stopped him.
She paced in front of the fireplace. Men! No, she thought, her fury building, Nicolas. He was entirely to blame for the predicament she was in. Everything was hi
s fault. If he hadn’t kidnapped her in the first place, none of this would be happening.
She felt the damp hem of her gown against her ankles, pulled up the yellow skirt and looked at the wet, blackened rim around the bottom. She dropped her skirt in disgust. And if he hadn’t brought her here, she thought, her precious few dresses would still be wearable.
Anna frowned and wrinkled her nose. She was quickly running out of clothes. If she kept this up, she’d be left with nothing at all to teach in … except for her favorite royal-blue taffeta, and her rose foulard silk. Neither of which would be unpacked until she returned to civilization, she silently asserted.
A rap at the door brought her head up. “Yes?”
“Joke, here.”
Anna stopped pacing. “Come in.”
Joke peeked around the corner of the door and grinned at her. “Joke bring laurel,” he said as he came into the room and dangled a big branch in front of her.
“Thank you.” She smiled, noting the basket in his other hand. “What’s in there?”
“Laurel leaves,” he answered, putting them on the table.
“Oh, Joke,” Anna said warmly. “Thank you so much. It was very thoughtful of you to do this for me. I hope it hasn’t been any trouble.”
“Welcome.” Joke shifted uncomfortably. “Missy Anna want fire?”
“Oh, that would be wonderful. I’m absolutely exhausted.” She watched him hunker down in front of the fireplace.
“Missy Anna keep fire going all night?”
“Yes, you taught me that the first week I was here. Don’t you remember?”
Joke turned to her and grinned. “Joke remember. Joke wonder if Missy Anna remember.”
Anna grinned back. Strange, the man wasn’t repulsive at all. What ever had made her think he was? So, he wasn’t the cleanest person on the face of the earth. His bathing habits were none of her business. But he was so thoughtful, and generous. A warmth curled around her heart. She watched him make the fire, and realized he was waiting on her like a servant.
She walked over and knelt down beside him. “I can do it.”
“Joke finished.” He stood up and watched the fire dance and blaze on the grate. “Missy Anna has changed.”
Secrets of a Midnight Moon--The Moon Trilogy--Book One Page 13
