by Norah Hess
Kane, chopping more wood, for the evenings were quite cool now, noted the cat's action and wondered with some amusement if D'lise was able to communicate her dislike of Raven to her pet.
Twenty minutes later, when he and D'lise walked into the cabin, his arms full of wood and she carrying a pail of milk, and a discontented Raven trailing behind them, the cabin was filled with the spicy aroma of apples.
"Boy!" Kane took a deep breath. "This place has never known that smell before. I've a mind not to take the cobbler to the Jessups."
"We've got to take it," D'lise scolded. "We've nothing else." She gave him a consoling smile. "I'll bake one for us tomorrow."
Raven threw herself into one of the rockers. "Why do you go to the Jessups' cabin?" She looked at Kane.
"Mrs. Jessup died last night," Kane answered, "We're goin' to her wake."
Raven set the rocker in motion and stared. "Raven go with you."
Kane sent her a look that said, "You know better than that." Raven's black eyes defied him a moment, then looked away as he stared her down.
That's a relief, D'lise thought, peeling potatoes and slicing them into a skillet. I wouldn't go if Kane allowed her to go with us.
And she wanted to go. She wanted to meet and get to know her new neighbors. She and Auntie had never been allowed to associate with the women who lived in her old neighborhood. They knew them only to speak a greeting, and nothing else. She had no idea what they thought about different things. She often wondered if they were God-fearing, if they worked as hard as she and Auntie did. Were their husbands as mean as Rufus was to his wife?
D'lise continued to muse about the women she would meet tonight as the evening meal progressed. By the time she had supper on the table, dusk was coming on. She lit a candle, then called out that it was time to eat.
She watched Kane's face as he took a seat and ranged his eyes over the platter of sugar-cured ham, the fried potatoes, stewed turnips, and a round of quick bread.
She relaxed when he looked up at her and smiled. "Like I said before about the cobbler, this table has never before held such a tasty-lookin' meal."
D'lise murmured, "Thank you," and sat down across from him, hiding a smile. Raven had almost knocked the table over in her hurry to sit next to Kane.
Her wry amusement turned into disgust. Raven's eating habits were atrocious. Using her fingers, she stuffed her mouth full of food, then, like Rufus, chewed it with her mouth open. It turned D'lise's stomach each time the woman wiped her greasy fingers down the front of her tunic, and she pushed her plate away long before her companions did. D'lise suffered through the chomping and grinding until finally, with a loud belch, Raven signaled that her hunger was sated.
The well-stuffed woman stood up then, and when she would have left the table, Kane said, "Since D'lise cooked the meal, you can do the cleanin' up." He ignored her scowl as he rose and said to D'lise, "We can get started to the Jessups' whenever you're ready."
True darkness had arrived as D'lise and Kane rode toward the east, along the Ohio River branch. A full moon had risen, clearly marking the trail that would lead them up a hill, down across a hollow, then up another hill to where the Jessup cabin sat. D'lise, keeping the cloth-covered pan of cobbler balanced in her lap, wished that she'd had time to sew a dress from one of the pretty pieces waiting back at the cabin. What would the women think of her drab, worn homespun?
She consoled herself that her dress was clean and turned her thoughts to which piece of material she'd start on tomorrow. Before long, an old decrepit shack loomed before them eerily in the shadows.
It looked much like the one she had lived in most of her life, and D'lise wouldn't have been surprised had Rufus stepped out onto its rotting porch.
"Looks like all the woods people have come to the 'sittin' up,'" Kane said as he dismounted and caught her under the arms as she slid off the mare.
"How did everyone hear about Mrs. Jessup's death so quickly?" D'lise asked as Kane tied the mounts to a tree. "Some of them live quite a distance away, don't they?"
"Yes, some as far as fifteen miles. You see, whenever someone dies a bell is tolled in a particular way that announces a death in the community. Then the bell is tolled real slow, the number of years of the person's age. That way everyone can figure out who the dead person is. Everybody stops whatever they're doin' at the time and starts off to do what they can for the bereaved family."
"What kind of things do they do for the family?" D'lise asked. No one had come to help her and Rufus when Auntie killed herself.
"Oh, you know, all the things that have to be done. The men dig the grave and make a coffin, the women wash the body, if it's a woman who died, then dress her. The clothes have to be put on a corpse before rigor mortis sets in. It's hard to get them dressed when the body gets stiff."
D'lise shivered. She knew all about that. It had been left up to her to wash Auntie, then struggle a clean dress over her poor, broken body. She still dreamed about that.
Kane saw her shiver, and taking her arm, ushered her onto the porch. "The nights are gettin' cold, huh?" he said, opening the door and nudging her through it.
Everyone looked up when D'lise and Kane entered the room, which was dimly lit by a sole candle. Miserly bastard, Kane thought of Elijah Jessup as he peered at the faces turned toward him and D'lise.
His gaze picked out the Jessup children, ranging in ages from nine to less than a year. Those old enough to understand the finality of death wore grief and uncertainty on their thin features; on the younger ones was only confusion.
It was Sarah Patton who came to greet Kane and D'lise and walk with them up to the pine casket.
"Me and Ellen Travis, the pretty one sittin' next to my Milly, washed and dressed Tilda," Sarah whispered. "Poor thing didn't have a decent dress to meet her maker in, so Ellen went home and got one of hers.
"She looks real nice, don't you think?" she said as Kane and D'lise looked down at the wasted body of the still young woman.
Bad memories came back to D'lise. Auntie hadn't had a decent dress to be buried in either. Had she been ashamed when she stood before God in her faded dress and scuffed shoes? She glanced up at the stern-faced man sitting beside the fire. Had he, like Rufus, beaten this thin little woman? Her body shuddered with a sudden abhorrence of all men. She grimly promised herself that she would never put herself at the mercy of one.
As though he knew what was running through her mind, Kane bent his head and whispered close to her ear, "Although Jessup was cruel to his wife in many ways, he never brutalized her."
D'lise was not sure as she gazed at the thin hands in which someone had placed a bouquet of goldenrods. She had noted that when the children occasionally glanced at their father, it was with guarded looks, as though they didn't want to call attention to themselves. Even the youngest one, riding her eldest sister's hip, made no sound. And the neighbor women here, although they displayed genuine sympathy for the children, didn't seem to extend that emotion to the father. They seemed to shun him, never looking directly at him. Didn't that say something?
Kane was taking her arm then, leading her away from the casket. "I want you to meet the rest of your neighbors," he said.
D'lise couldn't keep up with the names of all those she met in the next few minutes, but she would remember their faces, she told herself, and in time match both together.
When she had been introduced to everyone, Kane led her to a seat next to the woman who had donated the dress for Tilda Jessup to be buried in. "Welcome to Piney Ridge, D'lise," Ellen Travis said with a smile. "I'm sorry we've met under such unhappy circumstances." She gave her attention to Kane then. "It's good to see you've made it back in one piece, Kane. We were all worried that you would try to win the war all by yourself." The curve of her lips was teasing.
Kane laughed softly. "I'm not quite that crazy, Ellen. I knew I'd need a little help." He laid a hand on D'lise's shoulder. "I'm gonna go talk to the men while you and Ellen chat."
> "He's a fine man," Ellen said, watching the big trapper walk to the other side of the room where the men were gathered. "I hardly recognized him with his beard shaved off." After a pause, she said, "I understand he's taken you under his wing, so to speak."
"Yes, he's given me a home," D'lise answered, but divulged no more information. She couldn't lie as readily as Kane could. "Which of those men belongs to you, Ellen?" She asked to change the subject, looking at the knot of males talking quietly together.
"None." There was a sad note in Ellen Travis's voice. "I've been a widow for four years. My husband was killed at the grist mill we owned at the foot of the village. He slipped and fell into the river one day when no one was around. Because he couldn't swim, he was caught in the current and drowned."
"I'm sorry to hear that," D'lise said, then asked, "Was he a good husband?"
"Yes, he was." Ellen gave her a curious look.
"He never beat you, then?"
"Of course not, D'lise. What makes you think that he did?"
D'lise shrugged. "It seems that most men do."
"Oh, but you are so mistaken," Ellen exclaimed. "Most men don't beat their wives. Take Kane for instance. I'd bet my life he's never laid a hand on a woman in anger."
D'lise mused on Ellen's words. She hadn't seen Kane strike Raven, although the woman had angered him a couple of times. She told herself she'd wait and see before coming to a conclusion.
She and Ellen looked up when Samuel Majors stood in front of them. "May I join you ladies?" He smiled down at them.
"Certainly." Ellen, pink-cheeked, moved over on the bench so that he could sit between her and D'lise.
"So, D'lise." Samuel crossed an ankle over his knee. "I don't suppose you've had time to get started on any of the material you bought today." His smile was wide and genial.
D'lise shook her head. "Not yet, but I plan to get a dress cut out tomorrow."
The storekeeper turned to Ellen. "Have you finished reading those books I lent you?"
"Yes, just today I finished the last one, Walk into the Wilderness."
"Oh, did you like it?" D'lise leaned across Samuel and looked at Ellen with sparkling eyes. "I loved it. I've read it twice."
Samuel and Ellen looked at her with some surprise. "So you can read, D'lise?" Samuel said.
"Of course I can," D'lise answered, slightly insulted. "My aunt was a schoolteacher before she got married and she taught me everything she could."
"I did notice that you use good grammar," Ellen said, then looked at Samuel, a silent query in her eyes. When he nodded, she said to D'lise, "I think you're an answer to our prayers. Would you consent to being our new teacher?"
"Me? A teacher?" D'lise almost gasped. She shook her head vehemently. "I would not have the patience for it." She didn't add that she knew nothing about children, that she would be unable to communicate with them, let alone teach them anything.
"Well, at least think about it," Ellen urged; then the three of them fell to discussing books they had read, their eyes sparkling, their voices animated as they voiced different opinions on certain books.
Across the room, Kane pretended to take part in the conversation going on around him, but barely took his attention from the trio after Samuel had joined D'lise and Ellen.
As he watched D'lise glow and come alive in a manner she'd never displayed before, there grew in him an unyielding resentment. He ignored the sharp pang in his heart and let his anger grow. He should have known she would flirt and carry on with an attractive man. She was beautiful, wasn't she? And all beautiful women were shallow, interested only in drawing men into their nets. He thanked God she hadn't wormed herself under his skin. He wouldn't be left bleeding when she abandoned him for the fancy, educated storekeeper. She could take her book-learning and go to him anytime she pleased. They could read books and discuss them all day.
"And what about the nights?" a small voice whispered.
That question brought Kane to his feet and across the floor to stand in front of D'lise. He nodded coolly to Samuel, then took D'lise by the arm and lifted her to her feet, saying gruffly, "Let's go see what the neighbor women have put on the table over there."
Ellen and Samuel looked at each other, then grinned at Kane's feeble excuse to take D'lise away from them. "I wonder if he's aware that he's finally fallen in love—and with a beautiful woman," Ellen murmured.
"What's unusual about him falling for a beautiful woman?" Samuel asked in surprise. "I would imagine beautiful women throw themselves at him all the time."
"They do, but for some reason none of us can figure out, he always picks the most unattractive female he can find. it will be interesting to see what happens there."
D'lise wondered at the hard coldness in Kane's voice, the almost painful grip he had on her arm as they viewed pots of beans with chunks of ham in them, pans of corn-bread, a loaf of light bread, a venison roast, and her apple cobbler. It was almost as though he was angry with her, but she couldn't imagine why.
When they left the table, Kane led D'lise to where three older women, including Sarah Patton, sat on a bench.
"We was just talkin' 'bout them poor young'uns, wonderin' what was to become of them," Sarah said as she moved over, making room for D'lise to sit down. "I guess we could parcel them out amongst us." She looked up at Kane leaning against the wall next to where D'lise sat. "What about you and D'lise takin' a couple?"
"No." Kane's answer came so swiftly, so positively, that the women gave him a startled look. "Our place is too small," he added. "Besides, D'lise hasn't been feelin' well."
His lips twisted wryly. "Anyway, give Elijah a couple weeks and he'll have them young'uns a new mama."
"Pooh," Claudie Jacobs, a tall, thin woman with graying hair pulled back into a tight knot, snorted. "There ain't a woman in Piney Ridge who'd marry that randy old goat."
"What's to keep him from goin' out of the area and talkin' some poor unsuspecting woman into marryin' him?"
"Well, there is that." Claudie sniffed. "One way or the other, men always find a way to vent their lust. I guess we'll hold off on the children for a while, see what happens."
D'lise slid a glance at the middle-aged woman sitting on the other side of Sarah. Claudie Jacobs sounded as sour on men as she did herself. Was the woman married to a man like Rufus Enger?
Her attention was diverted from the sharp-faced neighbor when Sarah said to Kane, "Will you be bringin' D'lise to the corn huskin' Saturday night at our place? I'm sure she would enjoy it. She'd get to meet all the young people in the neighborhood."
"We'll see," Kane answered shortly. "Like I said, she hasn't been feelin' well lately."
D'lise was about to protest, to say that she felt fine, when she happened to glance up at Kane and changed her mind. There was a dark broodiness about him, a look of displeasure. What had put him in such a mood? When he said it was time they headed home, she stood up with no demur.
"Are you comin' to the burial tomorrow mornin'?" Sarah asked.
Kane nodded. "We'll be there." Without further words, he took D'lise's arm again and led her to the door, giving her no opportunity to say goodbye to Ellen and Samuel.
As he helped her to mount, D'lise grumbled, "You didn't give me time to say goodbye to Ellen. She'll think me awfully rude."
"Are you sure you aren't disappointed you didn't get to say goodbye to the fancy storekeeper?" Kane almost snarled the words as he jerked the mare's reins from the tree and handed them to her.
"What are you talking about?" D'lise began, then closed her mouth when the door opened and Sarah Patton stood in the opening.
"When are you comin' for your hens, Kane? They're layin' right good. It's a shame you ain't enjoyin' their eggs."
"I'll start fixin' a place for them tomorrow, Sarah," he answered, swinging onto Snowy's back and turning his head in the direction of home.
At first D'lise was going to pursue the question Sarah had interrupted, but decided against it. Kane's broad, stif
f back didn't encourage further questioning. If she angered him further, he might even strike her.
No, she told herself, Ellen was right. This big man would never use his strength against a woman. She didn't know why, but she was sure of it.
The plaintive call of a whippoorwill floated across the hollow as they entered it, and another answered as they climbed the hill to the cabin. Kane drew rein at the sagging porch and reached over to steady D'lise's arm as she dismounted. As she brushed down her dress he took hold of Beauty's bridle and led her along as he steered the stallion to the barn.
D'lise watched him a moment, then, with a sigh, pushed open the cabin door. Raven, sitting in front of the fire, turned her head as the door creaked, then wordlessly looked back at the fire when she saw only D'lise. "And hello to you too," D'lise muttered to herself and walked over to the bed where her package of material lay.
She was struggling with a knot in the twine holding the heavy paper together when Kane entered the cabin. He watched her a moment, then drew his knife, and with a swipe of the sharp blade the wrapping unfolded.
D'lise gave a gasp of pure delight. Lying on top of the folded material, the soap and ribbons and laces, were several skeins of yarn, a cream color and two shades of blue. "Oh, Kane!" she exclaimed, and impulsively reached up to kiss his cheek.
But her lips didn't land where she intended them to. Kane had made a swift move of his head and her lips met his fully. Too stunned to move, she allowed her body to be swept up against his. As his lips moved hungrily over hers, she could feel his heart beating violently against her breasts.
It wasn't until he made a muffled groaning sound that she was stirred into action. Bracing her hands against his chest, she shoved hard as she jerked her mouth away from the devouring lips.
Kane stared blankly at her a moment as he was snatched away from a rapture such as he had never known before. D'lise's slender body, although thin, had felt so soft and good, fitting perfectly to his, her feminine mound nestled against his rising masculinity. Awareness came into his eyes then and he realized what he had done.
