Kenleigh-Blakewell Family Saga Boxed Set (Books 1 & 2)

by Pamela Clare

  The room filled with laughter.

  “Saints be praised!” Martha shouted.

  Cassie felt relief wash through her and thought for a moment her knees might buckle. The room seemed to spin. Two strong hands grasped her shoulders, and Cole’s concerned face swam before her eyes. “Are you well, Cassie? Perhaps you should sit for a moment.”

  “ I . . . I’m fine.” She willed her feet to be steady. “Just a bit tired, I think.”

  His hands felt warm through the linen of her dress, and the salty scent of his skin filled her nostrils. She fought the urge to sink against him, instead pushing past him to place a cool cloth on Rebecca’s brow. The new mother lay back on her pillow where Cole had placed her, shivering in her sleep, the battle for her life still far from over.

  Takotah had tied off and cut the cord and was giving the baby her first bath, which, from the sound of the baby’s cries, she did not appreciate. After drying the infant and wrapping her in warm blankets, Takotah handed the baby to Martha.

  “Aye, Rebecca will have her hands full with this one.” Martha gave the baby a kiss before passing her on to Cassie.

  Nearly four weeks early by Takotah’s reckoning, the little girl was the tiniest babe Cassie had ever held. With only the faintest red fuzz on her head, tiny red lips curved into a furious frown, and dark blue eyes that already seemed to examine the world around her, she was a miracle.

  It was then that Cassie realized she was laughing and crying at the same time, her vision blurred with tears that rolled down her cheeks.

  “She’s so . . . tiny,” Cole said from beside her.

  “Aye.” Cassie smiled.

  The baby began to root at her breast.

  “And hungry.” Cole chuckled.

  Cassie felt color rush to her cheeks. “Would you like to hold her?”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “ I . . . that is to say ... ”

  She took advantage of his hesitation. “Support her head like this.”

  Ever so carefully he took the baby into his arms. When he finally looked up to meet Cassie’s gaze, she thought her heart had stopped. His blue eyes held a warmth she had not seen before. The smile that now spread across his face made her breath catch in her throat. For a moment it was just the three of them—Cassie, the baby, Cole. She found herself wishing this were her baby, and Cole its father.

  “Until Rebecca is strong again, the baby will need a wet nurse.” Takotah had delivered the afterbirth and was now cleaning up.

  “Aye.” Cassie shook off her fantasy and gently took the babe from Cole. “I’ll take her to Sarah. Her son is now three months old. She ought to have milk to spare.”

  Takotah nodded in agreement.

  “And I’ll go wake the father.” Cole grinned.

  * * *

  Alec’s self-appointed task was more easily said than done, as he quickly discovered. Nate refused to budge, even after a few firm kicks to his posterior. Zach, who might have helped, was now facedown in the dirt, snoring. There was only one solution.

  Alec knelt over the tanner and, slinging him over his shoulder as he might a sack of grain, lifted him off the ground. Nate was lighter than he had expected, and he had no difficulty carrying him across the courtyard to the horse trough. He dropped Nate into the water and waited.

  For a moment nothing happened, and he feared Nate was so drunk he would drown.

  Then the tanner rose, coughing and sputtering, to the surface. “What... who ... aack!”

  Alec took the floundering man by his collar and hoisted him to his feet.

  “What. . . where am I?” Nate slurred.

  “It’s the middle of night, and you’re standing in the horse trough, my friend.”

  Nate looked down at his feet, which were still submerged, and stepped clumsily out of the water. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  With a moan, he doubled over and emptied the contents of his stomach into the dirt.

  Alec left him and, carrying a bucket of water, walked back to Zach.

  “Son of a … !” Zach howled when the cold water hit him. Shaking his head, he lurched to his feet. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Waking you up.” Alec easily sidestepped a clumsy punch.

  Zach landed on his knees in the din, then looked up at him. “Cole?”

  “Aye. Rebecca’s had her baby. I need help getting the new father on his feet.”

  “Baby?”

  “A healthy wee girl.”

  “Where’s Nate?” Zach staggered to his feet, clutching his head.

  “On his knees, retching in the dirt.” Alec pointed to the figure huddled on the ground nearby. At the mention of the word retch, he saw Zach’s face turn white.

  “Not you, too.”

  Zach sank to the ground, gagging.

  Come to think of it, Alec wasn’t feeling too well himself. He quickly turned and walked ten paces away, gulping in deep breaths of fresh air as he went, closing his ears to the foul sounds behind him. This was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Twenty minutes later Alec had both men on their feet and walking in the same direction. With their stomachs thoroughly purged, they seemed to feel much better.

  “You’re sure she has red hair?” Nate clawed at the mosquito bites on his arms. The nasty insects had preyed heavily upon him as he slept.

  “Aye, I saw her with my own eyes.”

  “And Rebecca?”

  “Asleep when I left.”

  By the time they reached the cabin, Nate was running, Alec and Zach following behind.

  “Rebecca?” Nate opened the door and stepped to his wife’s side.

  “She’s sleepin’, and don’t ye wake her.” Nan eyed the three of them disapprovingly.

  Martha was gone, leaving only Nan, who was busy tidying up the tiny cabin, and Takotah, who was folding several small skin pouches into a leather bundle.

  “Will she … live?” Nate asked Takotah, stroking his wife’s cheek.

  “She is still very sick, but we have come this far,” Takotah smiled. “If she keeps down the red powder I just gave her and does not bleed too much, she should be well soon.”

  “No thanks to you.” Nan glared at Nate. “While you were facedown in the dirt, Takotah—aye, and Cole, too—was busy savin’ yer wife and babe.”

  Nate looked questioningly toward Alec, who shrugged, then Takotah. “I’m sorry. I called you a witch and worse, curse my tongue. I just didn’t think that a … a heathen could know the ways of healin’.”

  Takotah accepted the apology with a graceful nod.

  “Now if only she had a cure for this headache.” Zach stood near the hearth, holding his head in his hands.

  Takotah patted Zach on the arm as she passed, her dark eyes twinkling with amusement. “What you need is sleep and a bit of sense.”

  She left the cabin, closing the door behind her.

  “Sense? That’ll be the day.” Nan wiped her hands on her apron and plopped her heavy form down in the rocking chair. She’d offered to tend Rebecca through the night, and Takotah, with other patients to tend, had agreed.

  Alec was about to leave to follow Takotah’s advice and seek his bed when Cassie entered, carrying a tiny bundle. There were dark circles under her eyes, but her cheeks were flushed with excitement. When she looked at him, her smile was so full of life that any fatigue he might have been feeling vanished.

  “Care to see your wee daughter?” She presented the little bundle to Nate, who stared down at the sleeping infant in wonder.

  “Can I hold her?”

  “Aye.” Cassie laughed softly. “You needn’t ask me. You are the babe’s father, are you not?”

  “Aye.” He took the baby in his arms.

  “Be sure to support her head,” Cassie instructed. “No, like this.”

  Alec watched as she showed Nate how to hold his baby, lost in wonderment of his own. He’d never seen a baby born before, and didn’t quite know what t
o think. It had been both terrible and wonderful, the pain and suffering all resulting in the tiny miracle Nate now held in his arms. Men were so proud of their physical strength, boasting of their feats to one another, but the kind of strength it took to withstand childbirth was something no man would ever be able to comprehend.

  Cassie laughed softly again, smiling at him. Alec smiled back, though he’d been too lost in his own thoughts to know why she was smiling. If she was exhausted, she hid it well. The circles under her eyes were the only sign she’d risen before the sun. She exuded a vibrancy that seemed to fill the room with light, and everyone in the tiny cabin seemed to draw strength from her presence. Alec watched as she took the baby from its nervous father and kissed its downy head. It was obvious she loved children. He found himself hoping for her sake she would one day be able to raise her own. The sharp regret he suddenly felt knowing he would not be the man to father them surprised him. He’d never wanted to be a father before.

  Did he really desire her that badly? Aye, he did. That was the hell of it. He’d vowed to himself time and time again to stay away from her, at least until his identity had been restored. But his vow didn’t make his need for her go away. Seeing her like this, cradling a new life against her breast, her green eyes sparkling with happiness, he wanted her more than ever. But giving in to this hunger now might end his life and would certainly ruin hers. Though a night with her beneath him might be worth a trip to the gallows, he wouldn’t ruin her life to gratify his lust.

  Suddenly the cabin seemed much too small. He needed air. He bade Cassie a hasty goodnight and found the door. He’d made it almost all the way back to his own cabin when he heard her call his name. She had followed him outside and was hurrying to catch up with him. He stopped and turned to face her.

  “I just wanted to thank you.” She smoothed her skirts. “You may have saved their lives.”

  He found the praise both pleasing and disturbing. “You’d have been fine without me.”

  He turned and continued on his way.

  She fell in beside him. “Have you ever seen a babe born before?”

  “Nay, though I was home when my sister gave birth to her five children and saw them soon after.”

  “You’re an uncle?”

  “That I am. Four nieces and a nephew.”

  “Their names?” She acted as if she were testing him, but there was a playful smile on her lips.

  She was teasing him, he realized—flirting. A small voice in his head told him to end this conversation. A rude retort would surely do it. But he batted the voice away as one might an annoying insect.”

  “Are you testing me again, Miss Blakewell?” He leaned against a rain barrel that sat beside his cabin and counted on his fingers. “Emily is thirteen and wants very much to be a lady. Victoria is ten and cares only for horses. Little Matthew is seven and detests being called ‘little Matthew.’”

  Cassie laughed, and Alec couldn’t help laughing with her.

  “Charlotte is five and adores me.”

  “So you’ve charmed her, too?”

  “Aye, I have that effect on women.”

  The both laughed at his jest, Cassie tilting her head shyly away from him.

  “The baby, Anne, is now seventeen months old.” As he spoke his youngest niece’s name, a pang of homesickness struck him hard in the chest.

  “You must miss them very much.” Her gaze had softened, her words almost a whisper.

  He nodded, afraid to speak lest his voice fail him. The truth was, he missed them horribly.

  Crickets chirped in the background, filling the silence.

  “You’ll be home with them by Christmas.” She laid her hand gently on his arm.

  He couldn’t tell if she was sincere or not. She spoke as if she now believed him. And yet …

  Did she know how beautiful she was? Even here in the light of a quarter moon, her hair mussed, dark circles under her eyes, she affected him. “You smell like lemon.”

  “It’s the balm Takotah makes to keep the mosquitoes at bay.” She shifted under his gaze. “I’ve tried to get everyone to use it, but most are afraid of anything she makes. The scent is quite strong, I’m afraid. I’d be happy to give you some.”

  “No, thank you. Mosquitoes rarely bother me.”

  “You may find that colonial mosquitoes are not as polite or discriminating as their English cousins.” She stood there for a moment, lips slightly parted, as if she were waiting for him to kiss her.

  He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, fighting the urge to do more. “Good night, Miss Blakewell.”

  He turned and entered his cabin and closed the door behind him.

  * * *

  “Ouch!” Cassie grabbed the silver-handled hairbrush from Elly and massaged her stinging scalp. This experiment was turning into a disaster. “I can manage from here, Elly.”

  “But, Miss Cass—”

  “You’ve done quite enough for now, thank you. You may go.”

  Elly gave her one last beseeching look, then left, closing the bedroom door behind her.

  Cassie gazed into her mirror and began to comb her hair, or what was left of it. Elly hadn’t given her a moment’s peace in a week, alternately fawning over her and sulking, clearly desperate to accompany her to Crichton Hall. At first Cassie had refused to consider it, sure that Elly would make a ninny of herself over Geoffrey and embarrass them all.

  But Cassie could remember the first time her mother had let her stay awake late enough to watch the ladies dress. She’d been dazzled by the bright colors of their silken gowns, the sparkle of their jewels, the heady scents of their perfumes. It had seemed a fairy tale, and she’d gone to bed with a head full of romantic dreams.

  Perhaps she was being too hard on Elly. She could understand the girl’s eagerness. Virginia’s finest attended this event. It was the first large social gathering of the summer, the last before the wealthy planters would leave their estates for the opening of the House of Burgesses in Williamsburg. The only place one could see more colonial pageantry was at one of King Carter’s affairs, or the annual Governor’s Ball.

  Still, what function scatterbrained Elly could serve at Crichton Hall eluded Cassie. She couldn’t help in the kitchen—not without starting a rebellion among the cooks—and Cassie didn’t trust her to look after Jamie. The only other possibility was for Elly to serve as her dressing maid, a task Nettie usually performed. Cassie had been willing to let Elly try, but the experiment had thus far proved to be more painful than she’d imagined.

  She brushed the few remaining tangles from her hair and began to twist it into a simple chignon. It was not the style, but she was only going riding. And her hair, curly as it was, did not readily submit to being piled and pinned tightly to the top of her head. It always seemed to escape. She pinned the thick coil of hair into place, pulled free a small lock over each temple, and let the curls fall. She might not be blessed with obedient tresses, but at least she didn’t have to spend hours burning her hair with a hot iron to create curls.

  The dark circles had begun to fade from under her eyes, she noticed, examining her reflection. There’d been a lull in the fever outbreak at Blakewell’s Neck, and she’d finally gotten a few nights’ sleep. They’d been lucky so far. In all, seventeen had been stricken with the ague, and all had pulled through, thanks to Takotah and the quinquina powder. Daniel was himself again, and Rebecca, though weak, was now able to nurse her tiny daughter herself. Nate was boasting of the baby—they’d named her Catherine after Cassie—to anyone who would listen, portraying Takotah as a miracle worker.

  Cole’s part in the birth had not gone unnoticed either. Cassie could mark a change, especially in the women, who no longer, seemed to fear him but smiled and called to him as he passed.

  Some of the young, unmarried bondswomen had even begun to flirt with him, their witless giggling grating on Cassie’s nerves. Not that she was jealous. Far from it. She was grateful for the polite distance that had sprung u
p between her and Cole since little Catherine’s birth.

  She had been touched that night, more than she cared to admit.

  Cole’s gentleness and his willingness to help had surprised her. The way he’d held Rebecca’s hands and whispered encouragement in her ear had made Cassie wonder what it would be like to be his wife, to bear his children. Would he hold her hand? Would he fret for her safety? Would he gaze with awe on their newborn children as he had little Catherine? The thought had left her with a longing she dared not name.

  As to Cole’s true identity, she was more convinced than ever that he was telling the truth, however implausible his story. Or perhaps the gaol fever had destroyed his mind, and he truly believed he was someone else. Regardless of his true name, she was now certain Cole Braden was not the kind of man who could deliberately hurt a woman. Seduce, aye. She herself was all but proof of that. But ravish and harm? Nay. No man could feign the kind of compassion he’d shown for Rebecca.

  There’d been a change in him after that. Now his eyes held neither hunger nor hostility when he looked at her. Those emotions had been replaced by a distant sort of courtesy. Cassie had no idea what might have caused the change or what it might mean. The question of her father’s whereabouts still hung between them. But whatever the cause for the change in him, he seemed no longer to desire her. For that she was honestly grateful. That was as it should be.

  And these tears? Where did they come from? Perhaps she was just weary of illness and heat, she decided, refusing to consider any other possibility.

  She stood and smoothed her riding skirts, forcing her thoughts elsewhere. There were only two short days before she would leave for Crichton Hall, and much remained to be done. She could not afford to waste time thinking about a man who neither wanted her nor had a place in her life.

  * * *

  Alec watched from beneath a stand of pines as Cassie rode past in the distance. He’d watched her ride in this direction every morning for most of a month now and was determined to discover her secret today. This had nothing to do with jealousy, he told himself for the third time. It mattered not one whit if she was meeting secretly with a suitor. What mattered was restoring his name, and there were simply too many unanswered questions at Blakewell’s Neck. Following her, as distasteful as it was, might provide some answers.