by Becky Lower
Raoul was beside her all of a sudden, taking the rope from her burning hands and tightening it with a simple flick of his wrist. She stepped back and drank in the sight of him as his fluid motions pulled the rope taut and locked it into place with a tight knot. Again, she became aware of the knot in her stomach. But this time, it was not in anger or anxiety. This time, it was in fear. Not of the man himself, but of her feelings toward him, which were growing way too close to adoration and love. She was carrying her husband's child, for God's sake, but was having lustful thoughts about another man. What had this war done to her sensibilities?
She stared up into his dark eyes as they swept over her.
"You should have waited for me to do this." He picked up her hands, which were covered in rope burns, and ran his thumbs lightly over her wounds. Her skin tingled with his touch.
"We couldn’t tell how long you'd be, and the storm won't let up for days once it starts." It was so wrong, especially after they’d vowed not to touch each other, but she allowed him to hold her hands and massage the burns.
"We managed to kill two deer, and had a bit of a struggle getting them back through the woods. That is why we were late. But we now have enough deer to get us through the winter. Jacob did well."
Susannah finally removed her hands from Raoul's, aware that her children were bearing witness. "Let me help you get the deer into the smoke house, then."
"No, I will take care of them. You need to get some ointment on your burns, get some food into Jacob, and then put him to bed. He has had a big day. And Hannah needs to get inside, too. You are right about the storm."
Raoul walked away rapidly from her side, and she noticed the deer carcasses in the clearing for the first time. She hustled the children into the house, and admitted to herself the only time she'd been cold while outside was when Raoul had left her side. She brushed her brow hoping to wipe away the inappropriate feelings rolling around in her head. She hustled around the kitchen, getting dinner in front of Jacob, who was so tired he could barely hold his head up. Someone needed to trek through the storm to get dinner to Raoul, as well. After adding to their larder today, he deserved a warm meal in his belly, too. If he didn’t come to the house after he hung the deer, she’d need to follow the rope to the barn to take him dinner. She hoped he’d break his vow to not enter the house, since she certainly had no wish to brave the wind and snow. But if she needed to, she would.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Raoul hung the deer carcasses in the smoke house while Susannah got Jacob fed and ready for bed. The little boy was so tired, he could barely keep his eyes open, yet he was bursting with talk.
"Lone Wolf let me use his bow and arrow, Mama! I got to shoot the arrow into a tree."
Susannah patted him on the head, his sandy, thick locks bestowed on him by his father.
"Why did Raoul bring down two deer instead of just one? It must have been really hard to drag two of them through the woods."
"He said there was a big storm about to break and we needed to have enough meat."
Even though Raoul was not a native to this part of the country, it seemed he could read the weather as well as she could. She nodded to Jacob.
"He’s right about the storm. We’ll have snow by morning. Now, finish up your dinner and get to bed. You had a big adventure today, and need your rest."
By the time Raoul finished with the deer, salting them down, adding wood to the smoke house fire, and let himself into the house, all the children were in bed. A warm fire crackled in the wood stove, and Raoul's dinner was bubbling pleasantly on top of the stove. Susannah set a plate of ham, potatoes, green beans and bread in front of him, and joined him at the table, grateful he had decided to come into the house.
“Another fine meal, Susannah. The ham is salty and I always have room for a slice of your fine bread.”
"Once again, I thank you for taking care of my family. Two more deer will be about enough to get us through the winter. The smoke house should be full, almost." She stared at his strong profile in the dimly-lit room as he ate.
"There is a bad storm coming. I could feel it in my bones today. There will be no more hunting for a while. So, it is best that we brought down two today. Young Jacob was a tremendous help. He understood when to be quiet, and did not flinch at killing the deer."
Susannah ran the fingers of her right hand over her wedding band, reminding herself, possibly, that she belonged to another. The man who should be teaching her son how to hunt in the woods. But he was off, hunting prey of his own. His prey, however, wore gray uniforms and were living men, not animals.
"Jacob said something about a prayer you gave over the bodies of the animals?"
"It is the Ojibwa way. We thank the deer for giving of themselves so we can eat."
"It very much impressed him."
"It did me, as well, the first time I went on a hunt. Of course, I was years older than Jacob."
Raoul shoved his seat back from the table when the last bit of food disappeared. "I should get back to the barn before the blizzard hits. I will take care of the animals and handle the milking, so Hannah does not need to fight the storm. A strong wind would knock her over, even though she has grown by a few inches since our first meeting."
Susannah rose when he did, her insides warm from his nearness. "The barn will be awfully cold. You—ah, you can sleep here in the house, just until the storm blows out, if you'd prefer."
She glanced up at him and he met her gaze. "I would prefer to sleep here, Susannah. Very much. We are both missing our mates. Which is why I will sleep in the barn. Good night."
His fingers skimmed down her braid which hung over a shoulder, lightly touching her swell of breast, and her breath caught in her throat. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, nearly losing her balance when he abruptly left her side and moved out into the weather.
She caught the edge of the table to steady herself, and opened her eyes. Blowing out a long breath, she traced the path Raoul’s hand had taken on her braid, tugging it as she recollected Raoul's scorching touch. What was she doing? Why was she so willing to play with fire?
She needed to focus on her children. On Jacob, who so resembled his father. On Hannah, her rock, even if she was small. And on Lydia, who grew more distant every day, and the baby, George, who was just now beginning to talk in sentences. Of the new baby, who would be delivered in a few short weeks. She had her hands full with her family. She didn't need to be entertaining thoughts of a handsome half-breed and how his mere presence set her heart racing.
♥•♥•♥
Raoul scraped his hands over his eyes. That encounter had been way too close. What kind of man was he? Susannah was only weeks away from delivering another man's child, and here he was, salivating all over the woman. She was not his to toy with. What had happened to his steely resolve? He had sworn himself to a life of celibacy after Pale Moon's death. He blamed himself for her early death. If she had been giving birth to a smaller child, she might have survived, but Lone Wolf’s child was too big for Pale Moon’s small frame. He swore then he would never endanger another woman with his seed. Yet the first woman he had contact with in the outside world had the capacity to undo him and all his admonitions to himself. He was a lost man when her hands touched his.
Yes, he would sleep in the cold barn, any day of the week in order to keep his distance from the peyote that was Susannah. His destiny may have been to help the light-haired woman and her children get through the winter, but that was all. As soon as the baby came, his promise to her would be done and he would leave. Deliver himself from temptation. Because, if he was wildly attracted to the woman when she was swollen with another man's child, Raoul could only picture how he would react when her body went back to its normal size. He tugged on his hair, as if to remove the image of a naked, nubile Susannah from his mind. It didn't work. Her image was ingrained in his head. Her scent of musk, even when covered by a dose of healthy sweat, drove him wild. He visualized her leg
s wrapped around him as he entered her willing body, and groaned at the image that had come roaring into his mind.
He wondered about her husband, William. She had never described him, but the children resembled one another, so he assumed they took after their father, with thick light brown hair, pale skin and brown eyes. Except Hannah’s eyes, which were blue like her mother’s. Hannah had proudly proclaimed her father a handsome man. Raoul was left to contemplate how he would stack up next to the man who had shared Susannah's bed for years. A white-hot bolt of jealousy ripped through him and he clenched his teeth.
He rose and went to Ziigwan's side. With soft words and gentle pats, he calmed both himself and the horse, as the winds picked up outside.
"It is past time for us to be on our way."
The horse nodded his agreement and Raoul ran his hand over the horse's dark flank with its red markings.
"We just need to wait for the baby to be born and we'll be off at next light."
Ziigwan nodded again, and nickered his approval. Raoul wondered where they would head next. This little patch of mountaintop had become home to him, now. The children were as much his as their father's. His woman should be Raoul's woman. Longed to be his woman. Despair threatened to overtake him, and he buried his nose into the hide of his horse, breathing deeply the comforting scent of horse, hay and leather. He wished he could talk to his grandfather again.
"I cannot unravel my destiny any longer, Grandfather. What am I to do?"
The barn remained silent. The only sound was the howling wind outside. Raoul's mind matched that of the wind, twisting and turning in all directions. He hoped for a vision quest this evening, to give him some answers. But he feared his sleep would be eventful, not interrupted by a dream telling him definitively which way to go, but rather with dreams of making spirited love to the woman in the house across the way. He could not count on his gods to illuminate the way. They had abandoned him and his lustful musings. He was on his own.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Susannah and Raoul had been right about the storm. It roared through the hills, dumping a foot of snow in several hours. The howling winds picked up the snow and tossed it into drifts that clogged the yard between the house and barn. Raoul listened to the whine of the wind as it buffeted the barn, and he shivered as it cut through the cracks in the siding, chilling the air. It was only marginally warmer inside than it was out. He added more wood to the stove, in an effort to keep both himself and the animals from freezing.
He grabbed a milk bucket and knelt in front of the cow. It was the least he could do. Hannah didn't need to come out in this, into the teeth of the storm. He would do the milking until the wind abated, and walk the rope line over to the house to deliver it, morning and evening. Then, he would load up on food, which he would take back to the barn, along with the daily image of Susannah. The last thing he wished was to be snowbound in the house with her. Best to leave temptation alone, on the other side of the clearing. His body ached, though, in yearning as he thought of her. It had been a long time since he had held a woman. He needed to wrap his arms around her, to touch her belly and to feel the life kicking in her womb, waiting to make its appearance. To feel such closeness with another would make him whole again. It was wrong, though. She was the wrong woman to make him whole again. And this certainly was the wrong time.
He stood beside the cow once the bucket was full, and patted her haunch. "Miigwich, good Bossy. You have given us much milk today. Susannah and the children thank you."
He positioned the lid on the bucket and pulled his deerskin coat around himself. The wind sucked the breath from him, and he squinted against the pelting snow. He grasped the rope line in one hand and the bucket in the other as he slowly made his way across the yard.
The door to the house popped open when he arrived at the end of the rope. Hannah ushered him in, took the milk from him, and led him to a seat by the wood stove to warm up.
"There was no need to do my work for me, Lone Wolf. I would have come out." She brushed the snow from his dark hair.
"I had nothing to do, and the barn was cold. At least by milking, I could be warmed by the cow."
Hannah stared at him for a long moment. "You could move in here until the weather improves."
"No, it is best I stay in the barn and take care of the animals. You and your mother do not need to be out in this. Where is your mother?" Raoul asked the question carefully. He had no wish to appear eager to feast his eyes on Susannah, especially in front of Hannah.
"She's not feeling well, and is in bed. I'm in charge. Would you care for some breakfast?"
Raoul grinned. Hannah might be small, but she was very grown up. "Whatever you have would be fine."
Hannah dished up the eggs, bacon and oatmeal, warming on the top of the stove. Raoul inhaled the scent of the simple fare and his mouth watered. His first bite made him moan in delight.
"This is good. Did you make the oatmeal?"
Hannah sat back in her chair with a smile, and toyed with her braid. "Mama told me what to put into it, but yes, I made it."
"Is your Mama sick?"
Hannah sighed. "It's the new baby giving her fits, she says. This always happens for a few days just before the baby comes."
The hair on the back of Raoul's neck stood up. "She will have the baby in a few days, then? Do I need to go fetch a woman to help?"
Hannah stood and removed the empty bowl from in front of Raoul. "The pass is closed, has been for more than a week now. And with this storm, there's no way even you can get through. And if you could, there’s no way you’d ever be able to get someone back up here. I'll help Mama when it's time, just as I did with George."
Hannah was far too young to bear witness to a birth. But what other choice did they have? Raoul nodded his agreement with her assessment of their situation.
"I will take some jerky, and some carrots for the horses and head back to the barn for the day, then. There is always something that needs to be done there. I will bring over the milk in the evening for you."
Hannah sighed slightly. One burden had been removed from her tiny shoulders, and Raoul sensed her relief. She glanced up at him. "Thank you, Lone Wolf."
He let himself out of the warm and cozy home and made his way across the yard again. The wind threatened to blow him over, the snow had turned to sleet and was pelting his face. He closed his eyes and kept one hand on the rope line. The lifeline. He could have stayed in the house with the family. But that rocky road was one he did not need to go down. He was better off in the barn, where he could relieve himself of his animalistic reaction to Susannah in private.
He stashed the food, but kept his coat on. One final check of the animals, and he went to the tack room. He’d spend the day cleaning and conditioning the leather on the various bridles, saddles and leads. It would be a good, productive day, and he could concentrate on something other than Susannah, who was about to give birth. But visions of a flaxen-haired woman kept him company even as he worked.
Hunger overcame him by late afternoon. He milked Bossy again and delivered the milk to the house. The snow blew across the clearing in a horizontal line, and the wind was strong. He opened the door to the log home and entered. Hannah was nowhere to be seen, nor was Susannah. Jacob, Lydia and George were sitting at the table, eating some venison stew.
“Where is Hannah?” Raoul kept his voice low, in case Susannah was sleeping.
“She’s with Mama, who is having a hard time getting any rest.”
“I see. May I join you for some stew?”
“Since you’re the one who caught the deer, I say yes.” Jacob’s reply came with a giggle as he rose to get a bowl of stew for Raoul. George dropped from his chair and crawled into Raoul’s lap the moment he sat. The spicy stew made his mouth water as he inhaled its goodness.
“Tell me what you three have been doing today.” Raoul missed being with the children, and hoped sharing their day’s exploits with him would make him feel as if he had b
een part of their day.
“We can’t do much with the storm still howling.” Jacob assumed an air of importance. “I brought wood in from the porch and kept the stove going. Lydia practiced her sewing. She’s making a dress for her doll. And George played with his blocks most of the day.”
“Then it sounds to me as if you have been very busy.” Raoul finished his stew, lowered George to the floor and stood. “Tell your mama and Hannah I am sorry I missed them.”
He left the comfortable, warm home and the children to return to the crude, cold barn. His heart hurt when the children told him of their day. If he had been able to be with them, he could teach them about how to survive in the wild, show them how to make clothing from the deerskins, so many things they would need to get by in this world. He longed for a sight of Susannah and Hannah, his little blood buddy. But he could not be with them. It hurt him too much.
♥•♥•♥
The sun hadn't yet made its way over the horizon when Raoul's tormented sleep was interrupted by the sound of someone coming into the barn. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. Hannah stood shivering in front of him. He grabbed her and wrapped her in his blanket.
"What are you doing out in this weather?"
"Mama needs you, Lone Wolf."
Raoul's mouth went dry at her pronouncement. "Is something wrong?"
"The baby's not coming out, but it is time. I'm not strong enough to help. She said only you can do it."
"All right, then." Raoul stood, shaking off the last vestiges of sleep. The flaxen-haired woman had called to him, this time in real life instead of a dream. His heart pounded, and his movements were jerky as he pulled on his deerskin coat. Hannah made no sense. What could he possibly do for Susannah?
Raoul guarded Hannah from the buffeting winds as they slowly made their way back to the house. When he opened the door, a wail of pain curled around him, and his heart stopped. He had witnessed that sound before, when Pale Moon was in labor. He grasped the door handle for support. He had no wish to go further into the house, even if it meant he would see Susannah. What he wished to do was to run away, from his memories and from this house. It took every ounce of his strength to move forward. He clenched his jaw and shuffled toward the bedroom.
