Dance with Destiny

by Becky Lower

  "You need to bring her and the children here, at least for a visit. I need to meet this woman who has brought you back from the brink of despair."

  He rose from the table, intent on finding food for his saddlebag. Ginger stood, as well, and wrapped her arms around his tall frame, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek before she let go.

  “Come back soon, Raoul.”

  “I shall.”

  His step was lighter than it had been in weeks as he left the room. He had seen a vision, Ginger had blessed what he was about to do. This was the right step to take in his life. He wondered if Susannah's husband died in combat, or if he was at home when he passed. Either way, the end result was the same. Those children had no father, and Susannah had no husband. The family of his heart needed him, now more than ever.

  He loaded up Ziigwan and swung himself over the horse, eager to be on his way. On his way back. On his way forward.

  ♥•♥•♥

  Once again, Raoul was at the cave in the Ohio woods. It was early summer, and he had the cave to himself. But instead of being hesitant, as he had been the previous year, this time, his footsteps were sure. He unloaded his saddlebags and bedroll from Ziigwan’s back, and let the horse roam in the meadow, comfortable that he would not stray far.

  He, on the other hand, wished to run straight to the cabin—to Susannah. However, he needed to make certain he would be welcome again. He would take his time, as he had last year. If his vision had been wrong, if William were here, Raoul would become Lone Wolf again, and fade into the forest without letting Susannah or even Hannah, be aware of his return. But not before he laid his eyes on every one of the children. And Susannah.

  Instead of heading to the fenced-in pasture, Raoul’s steps took him to the family gravesite. He stood in the shelter of the trees for several minutes, listening for footsteps while he surveyed the plot. There was a new grave, fairly recent from the looks of it, and adult in size. Logic dictated it was either William or Susannah, but without a headstone, he had no clue.

  The sound of small footsteps forced Raoul to take a step back, further into the woods. Lydia came into view and knelt in front of her sister’s grave. She had grown a bit taller in his absence, he noted. She hummed as she laid the bouquet of wildflowers in front of the cross marking the grave. Then, she turned, threw herself onto the freshly-turned grave and let out huge sobs. Raoul longed to go to her, to let her cry on his shoulder, as he had with Hannah and Susannah. Yet he held back, even though her actions made his heart ache. She cried herself out after a few minutes and rose, rubbing the dirt from her tear-stained face. She smoothed the earth she had been lying on, and turned to leave.

  Shadows were falling across the forest floor by the time Raoul rose from his vantage point. Tomorrow, he would head to the spot across from the clearing where he had first seen Susannah, and wait. His heart rate picked up as he thought about seeing Hannah, Missouria, Jacob and George in the morning. But they were merely the prelude before the question in his mind was answered–was the fresh grave, the one Lydia had cried over, that of her father or her mother?

  ♥•♥•♥

  The aroma of bacon reached Raoul’s nose as he sat in the tall grass across from the small cabin. Breakfast was being prepared and soon, he would have some answers.

  The door cracked open and Hannah emerged. She had a shawl wrapped around her body, but Raoul could tell that she, too, had added some height to her frame. His six months away seemed a lifetime. He followed her movements as she crossed the yard and disappeared into the barn. Bossy was due for her morning milking, so Raoul closed his eyes, fixing in his mind exactly where in the barn Bossy was housed and how good her milk tasted. His sharp sense of hearing picked up the streams of milk as they hit the side of the bucket.

  He needed to see the rest of the family, and specifically, the adult in the family. He was normally a patient man, yet his thoughts ran wild as he waited in the coolness of the early summer morning. Hannah returned to the cabin and let herself in. Raoul was left alone with his rampant imagination, picturing all of them gathered around the breakfast table.

  After what seemed an eternity, the door opened yet again, and the light-haired woman of his dreams appeared. She was on her way to the well for some fresh water. Susannah was alive, and alone on her hillside again. Raoul let out a breath. William was the one occupying the grave up on the hill. He waited until she had filled her pitcher before he left the cover of the forest and moved into the clearing.

  ♥•♥•♥

  Susannah's footsteps faltered and her heart stuttered when she turned away from the well. Raoul stood in the yard, staring at her. One hand went to her throat, and she dropped the pitcher from her numb fingers, splashing water everywhere. Not daring to breathe, she moved into the yard and faced him. Her eyes greedily measured every plane of his face, every muscle in his body. He'd been gone six long months. Six months in which she thought she'd never see him again. Six months in which she'd thought of him every day.

  "You're back." Her whispered words traveled across the yard.

  "Yes. Are you well? And the children?"

  "We're all fine. They’ve missed you, especially Hannah."

  "And your husband? Has he returned from the war?"

  "He is in the family cemetery at the top of the hill. He put it up there so he could someday survey the land from his final resting spot. But he hadn’t intended on lying there so soon." She pointed toward the hill, not aware Raoul had been to the cemetery already, more than once. "He died two months ago."

  "I had a vision of you and the children under the tree, crying."

  Susannah nodded. "Yes, when we buried him we were all there. Since then, we've gone one at a time to his side."

  "So…I take it, you will be needing help again this summer?"

  She shuffled from one foot to the other as she stared up at him. Neither had moved from their positions in the yard, and were still a good twenty feet apart. "Raoul..."

  "I am not asking to take your husband's place in your bed, Susannah. I am asking if you need help to run the farm."

  His dark eyes drilled into her. He had figured out exactly where her thoughts had gone. What she had been dreaming about for many months.

  "For the present, anyway, I am not asking to take his place completely. You need time."

  Susannah's knees buckled and she faltered for a moment. Raoul rushed to her side and propped her up. His mere touch sent bolts of need through her, and she throbbed at her core. She needed this man for more reasons than to run the farm. William had been too sick when he came home to do more than give her an occasional peck on the cheek, until his last month on this earth. Their lovemaking at the end had been satisfying, but never enough. Now, she had to harness her body's needs…at least, for a time. William was not yet cold in his grave.

  Raoul's arm came around her and she rested her head on his broad shoulder. He brushed his hand over her long braid and comforted her as if she were a frightened kitten. She had been frightened, every day since William declared to her what she had suspected all along–he would not make it. She had wondered if she truly had the strength to keep her family alive by herself, since she seemed destined to be alone. She finally gave in to the tears she’d held at bay for two long months and turned her head into his shoulder, muffling her cries. She inhaled Raoul’s manly outdoorsy scent, and it calmed her.

  At last, her head came up and she wiped away her tears. Raoul’s strong fingers caressed her still-damp cheek, and wiped away her tears. She took a shaky breath, then backed out of his embrace.

  "Where have you been all these months?"

  "I went to my father's home in St. Louis."

  She shook her head. "The day you disappeared, I convinced myself you had only left the barn. I hiked back to the cave where you spent your first months here, searching for you. I left my children to fend for themselves while I spent one entire day foolishly searching for you."

  "I stayed close for a t
ime, but seeing you and never being able to touch you again was too much for me to bear. I had to get away."

  "Sully told us he and several others had seen you as you rode through town after leaving here.”

  “I thought no one witnessed my visit. There was certainly no one on the streets.”

  Susannah smiled slightly. “They were all quaking behind a closed door. You are a fierce spectacle when you’re on Ziigwan.”

  “When did your husband return to you?”

  “William got sent home from the battlefield shortly after you left, sick with pneumonia. The pass was still closed off and a tunnel needed to be shoveled out to get him through. He’d almost turned the corner, but he tried to make up for lost time and took on too much, too soon. The sickness had a hold on his body and wouldn’t let go. It waited until he had worn himself down, and swooped in to claim him."

  "What will you do now? Will you stay here? Continue to live on the mountaintop?"

  Susannah brushed a hand over her eyes. The tears were threatening again.

  "I don't have any idea what the future holds, Raoul. I don't have visions, as you do."

  "Well, then, we will take things one day at a time. I have seen Hannah and Lydia already, but I long to see Missouria and the others.”

  “You won’t recognize Missouria. She’s grown so much. William called her Belle, but in my mind, she was always Missouria. Please come in and get reacquainted.”

  She took a deep breath, aware she was about to take a leap of faith with this man. "The children will be so pleased to see you. You have to be hungry. Let me fix you something to eat."

  It wasn’t much, but it was a start at her new life. Her life with Raoul. She raised her eyes and stared at him. Could he read her well enough to see her hunger was for more than food?

  His chin raised and he brushed a hand over his chest. "I do have a hunger. Head inside. I will fill the bucket again for you. Let me put Ziigwan in the barn and then I will join you for breakfast.”

  His words sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine. Raoul had returned to them. Her steps were light, for the first time in months.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Susannah put a hand to her jumping stomach as she let herself back into the house. The children must not see her anxiety, her hope, her longing.

  She moved next to Hannah, who was at the stove, stirring a pot of oatmeal. It was nearly ready.

  "You've done a nice job, Hannah, as always." Susannah touched her daughter's light brown braids. She leaned over and kissed her cheek. "I'll get the milk from the cellar."

  She returned to the room seconds before the outside door handle turned. Hannah and Jacob cast a confused glance at the door, then their eyes went to their mother. Jacob ran toward the shotgun, hanging on the wall.

  "There's no need, Jacob."

  She put her arms around Hannah and Jacob, who stood on either side of her. As usual, Lydia hid behind Susannah's skirts. George played on the floor with his blocks, unaware there was someone at the door, and the baby was still asleep in the small bedroom off the kitchen.

  Raoul's tall frame filled the door as he peered into the room.

  "Lone Wolf!" Hannah launched herself at the man, barely giving him time enough to enter the room before she wrapped her arms around his waist. Some of the water from the bucket he carried spilled onto the wood floor. He carefully set the bucket on the table and returned Hannah’s embrace. "You've come back."

  Jacob came forward, too, and hugged Raoul. "I'm glad you're back. We need you here."

  "Where are the rest of the children?" Raoul glanced around the room and spied Lydia, who was staring up at him with wide eyes, fingers in her mouth. She stretched her free hand up to him and walked forward. Raoul crouched down to her level and touched her hair, which resembled Susannah’s. It cascaded around her little face in a riot of curls.

  "Wolf," she said, fingering his long hair. Raoul glanced up at Susannah, who had a hand to her mouth as her tears flowed.

  "That's the first time she's talked, ever."

  He hugged the small child and touched her curls. "Bangiwagad, Little Bit, you honor me."

  George set down his blocks and stood, arms outstretched, begging to be picked up. Raoul scooped the child into his arms, tickling his stomach, and making him giggle.

  Raoul glanced around the room and then stared at Susannah. "And Missouria?"

  "She's in the bedroom, asleep. You can go in and take a peek at her while we get breakfast on the table."

  Raoul's dark eyes flared at her invitation that he enter her bedroom. The only other time he had been in the room was when Missouria was being born. Her stomach fluttered as his eyes scorched her body. Over the heads of her children, their eyes locked and hidden messages were sent. Susannah could not catch her breath. Her entire being filled with longing, with need. With him.

  He turned and walked into the small bedroom.

  Susannah took a deep breath and pulled bowls out from the cupboard. Could sitting down to breakfast, participating in a normal, everyday activity, lessen the tension in the room? Could sharing something as basic and bland as oatmeal bring her tortured life back into balance? She certainly hoped so. She added some sugar to the oatmeal, hoping her life would now be a bit sweeter, too.

  Before long, Jacob and Raoul were downing their cereal, and discussing the crops that needed planting and care.

  “Did you notice, Raoul, we turned over a new field to plant?”

  Raoul glanced up from the bowl of food, and caught the unshed tears in Susannah’s eyes. She brushed a hand over them, and smiled slightly. Turning over that new field was what had caused William’s death. But if not the field, it would have been something else. Of that, she was certain. William was gone, and Raoul was here. Sitting in William’s chair, with William’s child on his knee. With William’s wife longing for his caress.

  Jacob continued to pepper Raoul with questions and ideas. They needed to go hunting for fresh meat, there was a list of things that had fallen into disrepair over the winter and needed attention. Susannah had been aware the mantle of running the farm had been most on Jacob, even when William was alive, but hearing him and Raoul talk, she grasped the fact Jacob was wise in the ways of farming beyond his years. Their talk was more as if two equals were discussing the workload, rather than a man and a boy.

  Hannah interspersed their conversation with news of the family’s livestock–Bossy the cow, the workhorse, Jasper, and the baby chickens that had hatched recently.

  Susannah glanced around the table, taking comfort in the normal course of the conversation. If William had survived, this would be the type of talk they would have around the table. But it wasn't William at the table, hadn't been in some time. It might have been wrong to be attracted to Raoul while her husband was still alive, but without him, she would have died. It was that simple. And that complex.

  He occupied a special place in her heart and had, for quite a while. It was now time to act upon it. Her body thrummed in anticipation. She would not fall into his arms today. But it would be soon. Her children already thought of him as their other father. People were probably already talking about her illicit behavior, even without any proof. Sully could never keep a secret. She and William had never made that trip into town to quell the rumors, and now, it was too late. When she did invite Raoul to her bedroom for some purpose other than to glance at the baby, she was well aware of the consequences of their union. And the talk that would ensue.

  Her children would be tormented, simply because they had a man taking care of them who had Indian blood. She would be the topic of conversation behind fluttering hands every time she went into town. Could she live with the lies and accusations for the remainder of her life? Could her children survive the teasing which was bound to happen?

  She had told Sully she was a survivor. She would be fine, as long as Raoul was by her side. In fact, once the ladies in town got a good glimpse of him, with his muscular body, his long, black
hair and his handsome features, some of them would be envious of her. Her children, at least the oldest ones, had proof of their parentage, since they'd lived on this hillside for years, and had made numerous trips into town with William. Only Missouria would be a question.

  She could tell William had harbored a niggling doubt about the child’s parentage, even when Susannah laid out the timeline. The question in his eyes each time he held his child had chilled her as if a cloud had blocked out the sun. How would the rest of the town react when she brought her new, dark-haired baby into town? Along with her new dark-haired lover?

  Life might get easier in terms of survival with Raoul in the picture, but it might be a different story when it came to surviving the wrath of the town.

  ♥•♥•♥

  Raoul had a fire in his belly that would not be denied. He had been back on the hillside farm for four weeks now, and had observed Susannah's emotions as they played over her face and body. Every searing glance, every hand to her stomach, every touch on his shoulder or sleeve, increased his yearning for her.

  She craved him. He needed her. They were now both free. So why was she still keeping him at a distance? It was time they talked this out. He picked up an armful of wood for the stove and let himself inside the house.

  The children were asleep up in the loft, so the house was quiet and the only light came from the small downstairs bedroom off the kitchen. Not wishing to waken the young ones, Raoul's steps were stealthy and he only made minimal noise as he put the wood into the rack beside the stove. He moved on to the bedroom and stopped in the doorway.

  Susannah stood in front of a dresser mirror, naked from the waist up. The gentle sounds of her dipping a washcloth into a bowl reached his ears but his gaze never faltered. He could see her breasts in the mirror, and his throat tightened as he gazed at her perfection. She hummed to herself as she bathed.

  As if she sensed his presence, she glanced in the mirror and caught sight of him in the doorway. Their eyes met in the reflected glass, her hand covering one breast with the washcloth. She set the cloth into the bowl with a deliberate movement and took a breath before she turned to face him.