Wilderness Trail of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 1)

by Dorothy Wiley

  Stephen had heard the same thing, but wasn’t about to say so.

  Edward continued to rant. “Do you want your children exposed to the elements for months at a time? The frontier is no place for civilized men, much less youngsters. Stephen, think of your beautiful wife. She won’t be safer on the trail. And your four young daughters. One of them is still in the cradle for God’s sake. It’s unthinkable. You have all heard about the brutal murders and torture of women and children on the Wilderness Trail. Even Boone’s own son was tortured before he died in agony. How many of you won’t make it? Whom will you bury along the way in lonely graves you will never visit again? You two can sacrifice your children—but hell will freeze before I will.”

  Stephen’s face contorted in fury and confusion. He slammed his fist against the table, making the pewter candlesticks and Little John jump. He leaned across the table and glared at Edward, wanting to make him shut the hell up. What angered him the most was the truth in his brother’s words. Truth often generates more anger than a lie.

  Nearly choking on his anger, he couldn’t speak. It galled him to admit, but Edward was right. He would be putting the lives of young innocents in peril, but he still thought leaving would be the best way to protect Jane and Martha. His stomach clenched as he collapsed into a chair. He watched John hug his son and then drop his head into his big hands. Edward’s words clearly stung John too.

  Amid the uncomfortable silence, Stephen forced himself to picture the horrible what if…the loss of one of his daughters. The frightening and abhorrent image made him swallow hard. He shook his head but it didn’t clear. Like waking from a bad dream, he realized it wasn’t real, but the horrible thought remained to make him uneasy.

  “People die here too,” Little John said.

  Stephen glanced up. One by one, his brothers recognized what the child had. Life was fragile wherever they were. Tragically, they had all lost family here. First, both his parents and younger sister, buried by the landslide. Then Little John’s young mother.

  “Little John’s got the right of it. There’s danger here too. A few days back, young Lucy MacGyver disappeared. Probably an Indian slave by now. The militia and Sam and I tried to track her, but we had to abandon the chase when the tracks evaporated in the mountains,” William said. “I’m afraid we’ll never find her.”

  “There’s no hope for her,” John agreed. “She could be anywhere from here to Montreal.”

  “We all die when it’s our time, no sooner and no later,” William said. He grabbed John Jr., gave him an affectionate hug, and then lifted the boy high into the air, earning William a delighted squeal from the child. “As for me, I’d leave tomorrow. I say, let’s go before the best land gets settled. It’s safe enough—I read that the Indians there signed a treaty after the Battle of Fallen Timbers. Besides, it’d be amusing for all of us to be together again.”

  Unlike Edward, the prospect of change never worried William. His handsome brother welcomed it, not because of the challenge it represented for Sam, but because William had not found his place in life. William viewed everything in his life as temporary. The only thing permanent was his love of the law. But William’s cavalier attitude infuriated him as much as Edward had. There was so much at stake—the lives of his family and his brothers.

  William was his predictable impulsive ‘ready, fire, aim,’ self. “I’ll go talk to the mayor and let him know the town will need to elect a new Sheriff, then I’ll pack what I’ll need, go to the bank, and be at your place by early afternoon.”

  “Needless to say, my family won’t be going,” Edward said emphatically. “Too many risks. Too many.” He shook his head from side to side. “This is beyond foolish. Leaving won’t keep Jane and the girls safe.”

  His contemptuous tone sparked Stephen’s anger again. “You’re making two mistakes, calling it foolish and staying here.”

  “You’re the one making two mistakes,” Edward yelled back. “Putting your wife and your children in jeopardy.”

  Stephen sprang up from the chair and glared at Edward, feeling his jaws clamp together.

  John stepped between them. “This argument is pointless. The decision has been made. We’ll need your help managing our properties since we need to leave as soon as we’re able.”

  “Of course. I’ll take care of all your properties. I can rent them out or sell them, as you prefer. Just let me know what you need me to do. And you may procure all your supplies at my cost from my store,” Edward offered. “I’ll send a wagon into Durham for whatever you’ll need that I don’t have in stock. Just give me your list. Sam should have a good feel for what’s needed he’s made so many trips with the army.”

  “Sam and I will work up a list,” Stephen said, putting aside his anger to focus on what needed doing. “John, will you take care of securing a wagon and an ox team? Make whatever changes you think would make it more comfortable for Jane and more efficient for the trip. It will need a durable cover to protect the children from storms. We will need as much storage room as possible, a large water barrel on each side, and an extra wheel or two. Have it ready by the time Edward gets the supplies together. Sam will secure what weapons and ammunition we should bring. I’ll find us a couple of good spare horses. I heard about some geldings for sale here in Barrington. And William, if you would, handle all the legal documents involved in the selling or renting of our properties.” Because William aspired to becoming a lawyer, he had studied the law for years, and Stephen was confident that he would expertly handle the necessary papers.

  By afternoon, the brothers’ hastily made plans were well in place. After all his agonizing, he realized the decision was behind him. At last, it’s happening. He grinned and his heart swelled as his mind’s eye pictured expansive rolling pastures, his herds of cattle and horses grazing contentedly on lush Kentucky grass in the warm sun. Jane and the children, safe, in a big new home.

  He could make that happen. He would make that happen.

  CHAPTER 11

  While Stephen was gone, Jane invited Sam into the house to smoke his pipe by the open window. Bear was busy feeding the horses and other animals. The scent of sweet tobacco smoke mixed with the pleasant aroma of her baking biscuits.

  She’d already begun the difficult task of selecting what to take to Kentucky and what to leave behind. Her heart not yet completely committed to the idea, she found it difficult to concentrate and wandered from one item to another.

  “Jane, you seem fretful. Are you uncertain that this move is what’s best for you and Stephen?” Sam asked.

  She thought for a moment before replying. “I’m not at all sure. I am beyond worried. I’m terrified that we are making a mistake. Is leaving the best plan Sam? Do you truly think Bomazeen will come back?” She fisted her hands in her apron to keep them from trembling.

  “I do. There’s no telling when. But he will.”

  “I admit the thought of facing that beast again terrifies me.”

  “It should. He’s not human.”

  “Even if Bomazeen doesn’t come back, I understand why Stephen wants to do this. You can’t cage an eagle in a farmyard. If he doesn’t go, he will never be completely happy. And if he’s not happy, how can I be? How can he be a good father and make his children happy if he feels trapped in a life that’s not his destiny?”

  “I’ve watched him all my life. Even as a child, he longed for more than he saw here. He sees with the same vision our ancestors had. He sees the horizon everywhere he looks.”

  “No, Stephen sees beyond the horizon. He is determined to do this. His will to go is stronger than my desire to stay.”

  They both agreed it was the correct decision for Stephen. However, she still worried whether it was for her daughters. She wondered if her husband fully realized what her girls would face. What she would face. She was by no means a delicate woman, but the wilderness tested the metal of even the strongest of men. Did he really understand how much she was leaving behind?

  “B
ut what about you? Do you realize how hard this trip will be?” he asked.

  “I know it would be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Maybe the hardest thing I will ever do. But my father taught me not to shirk from something just because it was hard—because most everything that’s important is difficult. That’s the way life is. That’s not what is holding me back. I am worried about the girls. How could I live with myself if something happens to them on the trail?”

  “They are not out of danger here. Bomazeen is as clever as Lucifer. He’ll find a way to pay you back—maybe by stealing more than one of your daughters. Heaven forbid they did die on the Wilderness Trail, it would be better than being a slave.”

  She looked away hastily, then moved restlessly around the room, finally picking up Stephen’s favorite book. She added it to the stack of items they would take. “Perhaps you’re right. The thought of him trying to steal Martha again makes my heart shake. Even the toughest life is better than slavery.”

  “Are they going?” Sam asked, the minute Stephen returned later that day.

  “William and John are joining us,” Stephen answered, dismounting, “but not Edward. He thinks we’re making a mistake.”

  “That’s Edward’s problem,” Sam snarled, “he thinks too damn much.”

  “If you and Bear are willing, we leave in two days,” he said, as he led George to the barn.

  “Good. It’s time to stop lathering and start shaving,” Sam said.

  Stephen wondered if Sam was trying to appear confident or if he really had no doubts.

  As they walked back toward the house, he heard Jane call out, “Stew’s ready and the biscuits are hot. Please dust off your boots before you gentlemen come inside.”

  “Don’t let Bear eat my biscuits,” Sam yelled back, used to competing for food with his brothers.

  “I made an extra pan full just for you,” Jane answered.

  That was smart. He had seen Sam eat a dozen biscuits at a sitting.

  “Jane, you’re an angel here on earth,” Sam said, climbing the porch steps two at a time and then throwing the door open.

  “If she’s an angel, then God must have his hands full,” Stephen said, wiping some flour off her face. Even in an apron covered with food stains, she was a vision.

  Jane swatted him with her dishtowel, but she still gave him a big smile.

  Stephen sat at the head of their old pine table, the tantalizing sight of steaming stew, hot biscuits, fresh butter, and a cobbler, all making his mouth water.

  “Bear, sit here beside Stephen and Sam sit across from Bear. We’ll put the girls down here by me. Martha, put the butter over there by Uncle Sam. You know how he likes to butter up his biscuits,” Jane said.

  “I don’t know why you have to make a biscuit soggy with butter before you can eat it,” Stephen complained. “You ought to just eat the thing the way God made them.”

  “God didn’t make the biscuits, Jane did,” Sam said.

  “I remember eatin’ some of Stephen’s wee biscuits on one of our first hunting trips. As hard and as flat as horseshoes,” Bear said, then threw back his head and laughed.

  “Why do you think I married Jane? It wasn’t just because she was the prettiest woman in New Hampshire, it was her biscuits,” Stephen said.

  All the girls giggled, even baby Mary.

  “Mommy, Bear let me ride with him on his new horse today. He looks like the camel in the drawing in the Bible,” Amy said.

  “Who? The horse or Bear?” Stephen asked in jest.

  “The horse, silly,” Amy answered.

  “Camel. You know that would be a fitting name for that big dun,” Sam said.

  Stephen had thought the horse had an oddly large head, but hadn’t said anything to Bear about it. A man can be sensitive when it comes to his horse.

  “Les call him Camel. Would that be okay with you Bear?” Amy asked.

  “Aye, wee princess. We’ll call him Camel, but only because ye named him,” Bear said, looking at Sam.

  “The Bible says the camels carried wise men,” Martha said.

  “That makes the name even more ideal,” Stephen said.

  “Stephen, I want Sam and Bear to take the girls into town till we’re sure it’s safe. Bomazeen’s words about Martha making a good slave for the squaws kept haunting me all day. They can stay with Edward’s family. I know Anne won’t mind. I’ll keep Mary with me.”

  Stephen nodded his agreement. “Good idea, but I want Sam and Bear to get them into town before dark. Get their things packed.”

  Jane set out a small bag and filled it with a change of clothes for the girls then she got their faces washed, hair braided, and their traveling shoes on.

  They stood ready to go in no time. “Uncle Sam and Bear are taking us to Uncle Ed’s house,” Polly cheerfully informed her father as he came into their room. “Mama says we’re overdue a visit to our cousins.”

  He gave Polly a hug. “Indeed, your mother is correct. Now let’s go down and find Uncle Sam and Bear. He scooped Amy up and picked up the girls’ bag.

  As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he yelled back to Jane to get the girls’ coats.

  Bear and Sam strode out and began tightening the cinches on their already saddled horses.

  “Sam, Bear, why don’t you return tomorrow after you’ve had a chance to see about your own places. I know you both left suddenly,” Stephen suggested.

  Jane kissed and hugged each of the girls in their birth order, as was her custom. “Be good and mind your aunt and uncle,” she said.

  “It would be good to take care of a few things before we leave for Kentucky,” Bear said. “But keep yer eyes open.”

  Stephen didn’t need the warning, but knew Bear felt better saying it.

  After tending to George and the other animals, Stephen came inside, bolted all the doors, and shuttered the windows. He peered out a front window before locking the final shutter. “Bomazeen probably wouldn’t have healed enough yet to travel and it isn’t the custom of the Pennacooks to attack at night, but I’m not taking any chances.”

  “I’ll feed Mary and put her to bed, then let’s sit by the fire and talk awhile,” Jane suggested, hoping for one last chance to talk him out of this.

  After placing his loaded musket and pistol nearby, Stephen towed a chair up to the hearth and sat next to her. For several minutes neither spoke, as he caressed her hand and they both stared into the flames, the peaceful crackling of the fire the only sound in the room.

  Stephen peered over at her, sharing his feelings with just a look. She saw so much love in his eyes, so much that didn’t need to be spoken aloud. His eyes spoke the silent but expressive language of love.

  But there was so much else that did need saying. Too many questions. So many holes in her confidence. But, she couldn’t bring herself to crush his dream. Couldn’t voice the words to stop him.

  “Your eyes are even more beautiful with firelight in them,” he said. “Come sit on my lap so I can see them even better.”

  His voice warm and tender, she was helpless to resist. She moved to his lap, giving up hope of sharing her real thoughts. Instead, she said, “It’s not my eyes you want to see.”

  “Your eyes and every other part of you,” he answered honestly. His strong hands held her waist and hips close to him.

  “Every part?”

  “Every,” he repeated.

  Her face heated as she wrapped her arms across his chest and back, feeling solid strength beneath his shirt. It seemed impossible, given the weight on her mind, but the feel of his rock hard muscles made her ache with a deep need for him. Giving in to her body’s demands, she kissed his forehead, his cheeks, and his eyes tenderly, before ravaging his mouth not so tenderly. She felt his body respond with a surge of desire but knew he would hold himself back, letting her enjoy his unhurried affection before the fire of love consumed them both.

  She should resist temptation, at least for the moment. She needed time alone with him to m
ake him understand why she wanted to stay in her home. But against his tender assault on her body, she could mount no defense. And against his dreams, she had no shield. She could not stop herself, or him.

  She tugged off Stephen’s shirt, revealing his powerful set of shoulders and tight muscled stomach. Despite his medium stature, her husband was wiry strong and she thought spectacularly built. She caressed his broad chest, a wall of muscles rising beneath her touch. Her fingertips tingled as she slid them slowly across his silky chest hairs. Even that simple touch brought her pleasure. A delicious shiver of passion rippled through her.

  Stephen lightly fingered a lock of hair that touched her cheek, then sank his hands into her curls and pressed his lips against hers for a long unhurried moment.

  The kiss hummed inside her heart. His lips felt soft and warm—always the best thing she had ever tasted—and made a tingle of pleasure rush through her chest. Kissing was her favorite part of lovemaking and he made a considerable effort to be sure she enjoyed it. He would linger at her mouth, teasing her lips, softly, unhurriedly, until she left all the cares of motherhood behind. Transported on a gentle wispy cloud, until the only thing she wanted was more of him.

  Then, he would turn his attention to the rest of her, as he did now. His lips left hers to nibble on her earlobe. Then he seared a path down her neck, her shoulders. His lips recaptured hers, this time more urgent and exploring. His hand slipped under her dress and skimmed across her thigh.

  The gentle movement of his hand sent a bolt of need deep within her. She curled into his chest.

  A smoldering flame in his eyes, Stephen took her hand to lead her to bed. Shivers of desire made her tremble in anticipation.

  He would take them both to their own private world of soul-reaching ecstasy.

  Afterwards, she knew he would dream—dream of what waited beyond the horizon.

  CHAPTER 12

  Stephen withdrew his savings at the bank and settled his financial affairs. Land in Kentucky was selling for a minimum of a dollar an acre and he would need all he had inherited and saved, although they all hoped to be able to get land grants and save their money for livestock, equipment, and building homes. He also found a buyer for his cattle, all but his best young bull, and two good-looking heifers. He would take them with him. He had fed corn to the bull separately from the other cattle to tame him and get him used to coming to Stephen’s feed bucket. Not yet old enough for breeding, the young bull would be easy to handle. He’d follow Stephen and the feed anywhere and the heifers would follow the bull. They would be the start of his new herd.