by Norah Hess
Time had never passed so slowly for D'lise as she waited for her husband to come home. Dusk was turning into night and she had lit a candle when Kane walked into the cabin. It was all she could do not to throw herself into his arms, demand why he was so late coming home—and what was Raven doing in their new home.
Instead, she asked with a smile, "Did you finish the roof?"
"That I did." Kane grabbed her to him and planted a hard kiss on her lips. "Tomorrow we start chinking between the logs, and then we'll move in." He released her and she brought the kettle of hot water from the fireplace and filled the basin for him to wash up in.
Move what in? D'lise wondered as she put supper on the table. This table and the two rockers? The bed was attached to the wall and couldn't be moved.
When they were having coffee, D'lise brought up the subject of furniture. "You'll have to build us a new bunk before we can move in."
"Oh, it won't take me long to knock one together," Kane answered. "In the meantime, we can cuddle up on a pallet."
At the wistful look that came into D'lise's eyes, Kane was tempted to tell her of the surprise he'd planned for her—that at this very minute, somewhere on the Ohio was a flatboat carrying furniture all the way from Boston. Ellen Travis had helped him to choose it from a catalog she'd borrowed from Samuel Majors. The pieces would be delivered to his store, then brought to their cabin by wagon when he gave the word.
D'lise suppressed a little sigh. If she had to sleep on the floor for a while, it wouldn't be the first time, and she would have three rooms to move about in, something unheard of as far as she could remember. She only vaguely remembered her father and mother's home.
She looked at Kane from under her lashes. "Did any of our neighbors stop by to give you a hand today?"
"No. I expect they're all busy gettin' in their crops. Of course, my lazy trapper friends give me a wide berth these days." A wry smile curved his lips as he mused on his rough and rowdy friends. They would fight for him to their last breath, but would run a mile to keep from helping to build a cabin. That sort of manual labor was beneath them. He understood that. Only a short while ago, he'd have felt the same way.
He looked at D'lise with loving eyes. The things a man would do when he fell in love.
D'lise missed the tender look. She was staring into her coffee, waiting for him to tell her that Raven had visited him. She had given him the opening, why hadn't he taken it? If he had nothing to hide, why didn't he come right out and say that he'd had one visitor, his old lover?
It became evident that the subject of Raven wasn't going to come up as Kane finished his coffee, then lit the lantern to light his way to the barn. "I'm gonna go bring the stock in from the pasture," he said at the door. "I heard the hungry squall of a cat as I came up the hill before."
Later, in bed, memories of when Kane would take Raven to the barn at night, came to devil D'lise. Although tonight he had as usual drawn her into his arms, he hadn't made love to her. After a quick kiss that had landed under her ear, he had dropped off to sleep. Listening to his steady breathing, she tried to convince herself that he was too tired. But as she finally drifted off to sleep, that aggravating inner voice of hers taunted, He was never too tired before. Could it be that a certain squaw overworked him before he got home?
D'lise's sleep was fitful, filled with images of her husband and Raven together. But when the sun began to peek over the hills, the bad dreams were forgotten. She came awake to a hungry pulling on her breast.
Whispering his name with a soft sigh, she stroked her hand down his flat stomach and curled her fingers around an arousal so hard and firm, her lower body leapt in anticipation. What she had been denied last night she would receive double this morning.
The sun was quite high when the Devlins got around to chinking their new home.
Chapter Eighteen
Since daylight, and for the past hour, D'lise had toured her new home. Her slender body could hardly contain its happiness as she went from room to room, then did it all over again.
She had paused half a dozen times in front of the fireplace in the main room to run her hands over the mantel of polished oak. Elton Davis had done a superb job of building the fireplace. It was large, built of fieldstone, and open at both ends. It would be deeply appreciated this winter when it threw heat in three directions. She planned that she and Kane would spend many cozy nights before it, their stockinged feet propped on the wide hearth.
There was a window with shutters in each room, a little larger than most in the neighborhood. She hugged her arms contentedly as she moved across the wooden floors. How good it felt to walk on floor boards again and not have to worry that snakes might be lurking in corners—her big fear in the old cabin.
D'lise paused in the doorway of the kitchen and slowly ran her gaze over the room that was most important to her. Here she would spend most of her daylight hours.
In a back corner was a trapdoor in the floor, leading down to a cellar Kane had dug, then lined with rocks. He had directed the stream from the spring to run beneath the building before making its way back outside to wend its way into a deep gully and disappear. He had built shelves to hold crocks of milk and butter and whatever else she might want to store on them, and there were bins to hold vegetables and fruits that would last through the winter months.
She switched her gaze to the opposite corner, where a ladder led to the loft above. There she could store things, hang her strips of green beans to dry from the rafters, dry off cut corn and sliced apples and mushrooms, as well as the herbs, barks, and roots she intended to gather from the forest.
And last, D'lise looked at the small fireplace, built only for cooking purposes. Kane had placed iron hooks on a crossbar from which pots and kettles could be swung over the fire, and on one side was a bricked-in oven. Her lips spread in a wide smile as she thought of all the delicious meals she could cook for Kane.
While D'lise was gloating over her new home, Kane leaned against the railing fronting the cabin, watching for the wagonload of furniture that should be arriving any minute. Old Tom had told him privately yesterday that it had arrived and was sitting in Samuel's store room. He was on tenterhooks anticipating the surprise on D'lise's face when it arrived.
Kane started when D'lise walked quietly up beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he reached an arm around her waist and pulled her to rest between his spread legs. "Is there anything special you would like for the cabin?" he asked, then waited for her to give him a long list of furniture.
She surprised him by saying, "I would like a spinning wheel for making thread and yarn, a loom for weaving cloth and rugs, and a churn for making butter."
He smoothed back the curls a light breeze had blown across her face. He must be the luckiest man in Piney Ridge, he thought. "Will you be content with a kitchen table that has one leg too short, two benches full of splinters, and two wobbly rockin' chairs?"
D'lise shrugged. "I've become used to them. Anyhow, I figure that when you can afford it you'll buy an occasional piece of furniture."
Kane drew her up against his chest, murmuring in her hair, "You're a wonder, D'lise Devlin. I don't deserve you."
He was gripped with guilt. As his wife, D'lise had every right to know their financial situation. He had always made good money trapping furs, and his expenditures had been slight—food, moderate drinking of spirits, a couple of sets of new buckskins every spring. Of course an equal amount of money had gone to the whores whose services he bought on a regular basis.
Still, that had only made a small dent in the monies he had hidden in Snowy's stall. And that was not counting the five bales of furs he'd trapped over the winter and sold to Buck at the fur post. The money from them had paid for the furniture he'd ordered.
There was no better time than now to tell D'lise about their finances, he thought, let her know that she hadn't married a poor man. He held her away from him, opened his mouth to speak, then paused to listen. He gr
inned at the sound of creaking wagon wheels.
D'lise heard them too. "I wonder who could be up so early in the morning?" She shielded her eyes against the sun's bright rays. "I don't recognize the vehicle, but old Tom is driving the team and—why, that looks like Samuel sitting next to him. Do you suppose they're coming here?"
"I wouldn't be surprised." Kane stood up and, draping an arm across her shoulders, guided her down the two steps just as the wagon rolled to a stop in front of them.
"Good morning, folks." Samuel leapt lightly to the ground and walked toward them.
"Good morning, Samuel," D'lise answered, a smile in her voice. Kane only nodded in the storekeeper's direction. He still didn't trust the good-looking man from Boston. He knew in his heart that, given the chance, the man would take D'lise away from him.
He was quite friendly to Tom, though, and moved close to the wagon so that the old man could lean a hand on his shoulder in his painful climb from the wagon. When he saw a flicker of pain cross the wrinkled face, he asked quietly, "Your rheumatism actin' up today, Tom?"
"Yeah, dad-blast it. I wish this rain that's been threatenin' would come and get it over with. The humidity is sure hard on my bones."
Kane broke off their conversation when D'lise's merry laugh rang out. He glowered at her and Samuel standing on the porch, sharing something that didn't include him. He gave D'lise a cold look when she smiled at him, and after giving him a curious scrutiny, she turned to look at Tom.
"Where are you taking this fine furniture, Tom? Do we have new neighbors I don't know about?"
"Well, not exactly." Tom looked helplessly at Kane. "It is for a new cabin though."
Kane was practically gnashing his teeth. Nothing was going the way he'd planned. Why did Samuel Majors have to come along with Tom, shining up to D'lise in his usual fashion?
His tone was harsh when he muttered, "The furniture is for you, D'lise."
"For me!" D'lise gasped, her hands clasping together at her breasts, her eyes wide as she gazed at her husband. When he only stared back at her, stony-eyed, she smiled nervously. "You shouldn't tease like that, Kane. I almost had a heart attack."
"He's not teasin', girl," old Tom snorted. "Kane ordered the furniture away back. It come all the way from Boston. Cost him a purty nickel too."
"Oh, Kane." D'lise ignored the cold look and threw herself at him. When her arms wrapped themselves around his waist and she planted a warm kiss on his lips, Kane couldn't hold out against her any longer. Besides, if she cared for Majors, she wouldn't be acting this way with him. His arms came around her and he hugged her tightly before releasing her.
Smiling down into her eager face, he said, "Well, woman, get on in the cabin and show us where you want everything put."
The first thing that was lugged in was the large frame for a double bed. It was set up in the corner D'lise pointed out; then Kane and Samuel carried in a straw tick and a feather mattress. Tom carried in two pillows.
D'lise was too choked up to express her joy when a heavy dresser with a mirror, and a tall wardrobe followed.
Never in all her daydreaming had she imagined having anything like this.
But there was more to come. Her eyes almost popped out of her head when two highly polished rocking chairs were carried in, padded and covered with a bright blue flowered material. She could only oooh and ahhh when Samuel placed a matching table between them, and Kane brought in two deacon benches and set them facing each other on either side of the fireplace.
Tears flowed down her cheeks when a sturdy pine table and four chairs were carried in. When Kane and Samuel carried in a wide china cabinet, she sat down on one of the chairs and, laying her head on the table, sobbed her joy.
"Well," Samuel joked, "I do believe she likes everything, Kane. What do you think?"
"I'd say she's overcome," Kane said softly, pulling D'lise out of the chair and drawing her into his arms.
"I never… never expected it," D'lise hiccuped into his shoulder. "I never had…"
Outside, the horses moved restlessly in their traces. "We've gotta get goin'," Tom broke in on D'lise. "From the sound of it, she's gonna blubber the rest of the day and I ain't got the time to stand around and listen to it."
The two younger men hid their amusement. They knew how fond the old fellow was of D'lise, and that it bothered him to see her cry. D'lise knew it too, and with a watery chuckle she raised her head from Kane's shoulder.
"I'm all finished, Tom." She fished Kane's handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped her eyes.
"We gotta go anyway." Tom limped to the kitchen door that led outside. "I've got work waitin' for me at home."
While Kane followed Tom outside and again stood beside the wagon, offering the support of his broad shoulder, Samuel lingered in the doorway having a last few words with D'lise. "Ellen said to tell you that she'd be over tomorrow afternoon to visit. She said you lovebirds would want to be alone today."
Kane looked up in time to see D'lise blush and smile from beneath lowered lids. Jealousy ripped through him. What was that bastard saying to her? Only Tom's clutching fingers on his shoulder as he climbed into the wagon kept him from springing onto the porch and smashing the handsome storekeeper in his smiling face. When Tom finally got settled, Samuel was climbing in beside him. Tom snapped the reins over the team, and the wagon rolled away.
D'lise still stood in the doorway, a happy look on her face. It disappeared when Kane, his face a stormcloud, brushed past her, knocking her against the door frame. What had gotten into him? D'lise chewed her bottom lip worriedly, then followed him inside.
"He just doesn't give up, does he?" Kane spun around to glare at her. "I wonder why? He must get some encouragement from you."
D'lise stared at him aghast. Was he talking about Samuel? Certainly not old Tom, she reasoned. But neither should he mention Samuel in that tone. Samuel was her dear friend and nothing more.
Impatience and anger grew inside her. Resentment sparking in her eyes, she said coolly, "I give Samuel no more encouragement than you do Raven."
"Hah! So you claim." Kane kicked out at one of the new chairs, sending it skittering across the floor to fall on its side.
"You stop kicking my furniture around!" D'lise yelled, hurrying to pick the chair up and put it back in place.
"I'll kick anything I damn well please," Kane shot back, slamming a fist on the table. "I paid for the damn things, and if I want to smash every piece of it, I'll do it."
Fear of Kane washed through D'lise for the first time since knowing him. She backed warily away from the anger in his eyes. Would he smash her next? The sharp memory of the beatings her aunt had endured stabbed her brain.
"Please, God," she prayed silently, "don't let Kane demean himself that way."
Jealousy still drove Kane, prodding him to strike out at D'lise with hurtful words and accusations. But the stinging words never came. The look on her face, the dread in her eyes, stilled his tongue. The one thing he had sworn he would never do had happened. In his rage, he had brought back that scared, haunted look she had worn the time he'd rescued her from Rufus Enger.
He held out a conciliatory hand to her and knew a bitter pain when she cringed away from him. He dropped his hand, only regret inside him now. His wife thought that he was going to strike her. He stood a moment, gazing helplessly at her averted face, willing her to look at him, to see the apology in his eyes. When she continued to look away from him, he turned and left the cabin, closing the door quietly behind him.
A relieved sigh whispered through D'lise's lips. She rushed to the window and watched Kane climb the hill to the old cabin. She frowned when he passed the shabby building and continued on to the barn. Why was he going there? she wondered, then whispered, "Oh, no!"
Kane had ridden his stallion through the wide barn door and was thundering toward the village. Had he left her for good? She stood a minute, tears stinging the backs of her eyes, then turned back to the kitchen, telling herself tha
t he would be back when he cooled down and realized how foolish he was to be jealous of Samuel.
Although all her elation over the unexpected furniture was gone, D'lise began sorting through the crate of dishes and cooking utensils she and Kane had brought to the new cabin. It didn't take long to place the few pewter plates and mugs in the china cabinet, and she thought how lost they looked in the big piece of furniture. It took less time to put away the pots and skillets. The big cast-iron pot she cooked beans, soup, and stew in, she hung from the crane over the fireplace.
The kitchen taken care of, D'lise went next to the bedroom, carrying bed linens over her arm. As she made up the bed, she wondered if her husband would be sharing it with her tonight—or any other night.
For the rest of the day, D'lise moved about the cabin, her face drawn as she stared out any window that gave her a view of the trail leading to the village. Each time she found it empty. There was no big stallion carrying a handsome man home.
When the clock struck four, D'lise started a fire up against the brick oven. She felt sure that Kane would return home in time for supper, and to show him that she wanted to make peace, she would bake him an apple pie.
While the pastry baked, she sliced thick slabs of ham from a smoked hindquarter and peeled a panful of potatoes. She would mash them and make red gravy to go over them. Kane loved red gravy.
The hour hand on the clock was nearing six, the pie was cooling in the open window, and the rest of the meal was ready to be placed on the table. All was in readiness for the man who hadn't come yet. And to add to D'lise flagging spirits, the dark clouds that had been gathering all day had turned black and threatening, bringing on an early dusk. And there was the stock still to be taken care of.
She took the lantern down from the wall and, lifting its chimney, lit the candle inside it. "Come on, Hound," she called to the dog, "let's go do the chores your master should be doing."
The lantern light threw shadows on the ground, leaping and swaying ahead of D'lise as she climbed the hill. A wind had come up and now moaned in the pines, and from away on a ridge there drifted the dismal yowl of a wolf. She stepped up her pace. Never had the wilderness, the loneliness, gripped her so.
