“Yes, yes,” Martha begged.
“Please, Aunt Jane,” Little John said.
Jane glanced up at Stephen. He smiled and nodded at her as though he too would enjoy hearing one of her tales. He often said she was an excellent storyteller. She usually made them up as she went. Her favorites were always about castles and princes. Stephen looked like a prince to her tonight. He had washed, shaved, and wore a fresh linen shirt over his broad shoulders. The dancing light of the fire made his long black hair gleam and his sapphire eyes seemed more mischievous than usual. His warm smile made her ache to kiss his lips. And elsewhere. She’d make this a short story.
“All right, but you must promise to be happy with just this short one. I’m tired from today’s journey,” she said.
The children all wore happy smiles and settled in for the story.
“Well now, about 200, no 300 years ago,” she began, “there lived a small group of fairies in the old land called Scotland across the big ocean. The fairies lived in an ancient forest named Glen Affric. The forest, silent, solemn, and dark, stood unchanged for many centuries, and nothing lived there but fairies. No birds, no deer, nothing at all lived in this woodland but these wee fairies. Every evening the fairies came out of their shelters in the trees and played lovely tunes on magical pipes. These tunes were enchanted and few mortals lived who were lucky enough to ever hear them.
“One evening, a young noblewoman rode alongside the forest, through a golden grass covered pasture. She had lost her way riding her horse and could not find her way back to her castle. The sun was far in the western sky and she desperately wanted to get back before dark, because her father, who loved her very much, would be worried.”
She paused to look up at Stephen—her handsome prince. Ah, now she knew where this story was going. She looked down at the children and continued…
“Yet, the young woman was not afraid. Those of noble birth must always set an example for others to be brave. The afternoon shadows grew longer and longer, making every tree, shrub, and stone, darken the grass. She kept riding, but could not find the path that would lead her back to her castle. The reds and golds of the evening sunset made her stop to admire, and there she heard the sweetest sound she had ever heard. She rode through the flowers and grasses, and pressed her mount right to the forest edge. She listened carefully. Was it merely the wind or a river? Had she really heard the delightful sound? Yes, she heard it again and the fairies’ pipes lured her in. At the edge of the forest, she got off her horse, tied him, and strolled slowly into the woods. After a bit, she grew accustomed to the darkness, and searched and peered past every tree. Suddenly, she heard, ‘A woman fair and true rides her horse, always following her heart’s course. Through field and glen she rides him through, and the land she loves, loves her too.’ The noblewoman sat down and leaned up against a tree to listen to the enchanting magical tune. She closed her eyes for just a second and fell fast asleep, hearing in her dreams the sweetest melodies she ever heard.
“As her lovely dreams kept her entranced, a neighboring prince spotted her tied mount as he rode home to his castle. He went into the forest to see who the horse belonged to because he thought they might need help. He found the noblewoman fast asleep. Her long golden hair, spread all over her shoulders, shimmered even in the darkness under the timber. Her fair skin glowed like the moon. She wore a gown made of silver, shinier than his long broad sword. She was so beautiful the prince could barely breathe as he gazed upon her. Right then, his heart fell completely in love with her.
“She was such a vision to gaze upon, that he did not want to wake her. But the sun was nearly down and he should wake her before darkness fell on the forest. He knelt down and kissed her hand.
“She woke up at once, and she saw love shining in the eyes of the handsome prince. As her eyes gazed into his, her heart swelled with love too, but she said nothing to the prince, except to say that she had strayed from her path and to ask if he could help guide her back to the right trail.
“The prince decided to escort her back to her castle and ask her father for her hand in marriage. Of course, her father readily agreed, for the young man had saved his lost daughter and was a strong, handsome and wealthy prince who would someday be King.
“Much to his surprise, when the prince spoke of marriage to the noblewoman, she said no.”
“Why?” Martha called out.
“Why you ask? Why would she say no when she had fallen in love with the prince the moment she saw him? He wondered the same thing as he went away disappointed.
“He decided to ride home by way of the forest where he had found her. Forlorn, he could hardly keep his mind on his riding. Soon though, he was at the exact same spot where he had discovered her. He decided to sit there awhile and see if he could figure out what he should do. He sat down, at the exact same tree, and shut his eyes, remembering how lovely she had looked the first time he beheld her.
“The fairies had seen him coming and prepared a special tune for his ears only. ‘You are the most handsome prince in all the glens and isles, but you will win the comely noblewoman only if you give her smiles,’ they sang. The song was delightful and made him stand up at once. He searched and searched for the source of the music and couldn’t find a thing. For you see, it is impossible for a mere mortal to view something as old and magical as a fairy. Nevertheless, they were there, and they sang the same tune again.”
“Mama, are there fairies in Kentucky?” Polly asked.
“Indeed. Of course, there are. And one day they may sing magical songs for you. You have to open your ears and your heart just right. Now, let’s get back to the prince…
“All right, he thought, I can find many ways to make her smile. So, he brought her the loveliest flowers he could find, but that didn’t work. Then he took her the prettiest and most yummy tasting cake his cooks could make, but that didn’t work. Then he had the best poet in the kingdom write a poem so perfect it would have made the great Scots warrior Robert the Bruce weep from joy, but that didn’t work either. Although these things pleased the noblewoman, they did not make her truly smile from her heart.
“He went away feeling sad and discouraged, and she went upstairs to her room in the tower, very sad as well.
“Being a Scot, he did not give up easily. He decided to ask his father, the King, what he should do. What do you think the King said?”
“What!” the children all yelled at once. Even Stephen looked like he couldn’t wait for the answer.
“The King said, ‘Have ye told the lass that ye love her even more than Scotland?’
“The prince shook his head no and gawked at his father realizing how wise the King was. He got on his steed and rode as fast as the animal would carry him to her castle. He asked her maid to fetch her, but she would not come down from the tower, for she wanted no more presents. So he stood outside her window and peered up hoping to see her. Sure enough, she was gazing out at her dazzling mountains and lush green meadows.
“‘My darling,’ he yelled, ‘I love you more than Scotland, more than its grand peaks, and lochs, and isles, and lakes. As much as I love this land, I love you more.’
“And do you know what happened?”
“What?” the girls and Stephen all asked in unison.
She winked at Stephen. “The beautiful noblewoman leaned out the window, her long hair flowing down, and smiled the biggest smile a Scottish lass has ever worn on her face, for she knew then and only then, that he truly loved her.
“And so they married, and had the most magnificent wedding ever celebrated in Scotland, in the golden meadow next to where the fairies had played for them. As they said their wedding vows, although no one else could hear it but them, they both heard the most romantic wedding music ever played for two people. All the fairies sang together, very unusual for them, and only done on special occasions. They sang ‘Love the glories of the land, for Scotland is a glimpse of heaven for you to see. But love your sweetheart all the m
ore, for they shall return your love back to thee.’”
“I do,” Stephen said.
Jane titled her head back and peered up at her own handsome prince. Her heart warmed with happiness. She could almost hear the sweet melody of the fairies in the forest beyond him.
CHAPTER 32
After Jane told her story, the children fell asleep quickly, no doubt dreaming of princes and fairies. Stephen thoroughly enjoyed listening to her tell the story, but the time had come to return to the real world of men and women.
He reluctantly filled everyone in on all that had transpired since he and William had left. Jane and Catherine, both justifiably horrified, hugged Kelly when they learned what had happened to her. He saw Kelly fight back tears, but their comforting only seemed to make her want to cry more. She soon quit trying to be brave, and gave into the tears. Finally, William whispered a few words to her and Kelly stopped crying right away. Stephen wondered what William had said.
Later, as the campfire glowed softly on this unusually pleasant evening, he sensed the mood changing considerably. Everyone seemed relieved the ordeal was behind them. He was as well. It was time to focus on getting to Kentucky and making his dream a reality. A dream he could share again with his wife.
He tugged Jane close to his side and peered into her eyes, sparkling now in the firelight. Holding her again made him giddy with happiness. She had forgiven him and all of a sudden, he wanted to celebrate. He cackled inelegantly, as he struggled to hold back his bubbling joy. He started to laugh, then snorted when he tried to stop, and that made him laugh even harder. Then he all but cried. All his emotions were surfacing at once. He needed to do something quick or Jane would think he’d lost his mind.
“I think we need some whiskey tonight,” he proposed. A chuckle erupted from him. He fought to smother it, but it only made his mirth worse. Then Jane started giggling, and it made his jollity worse still. Every time she laughed, he would too. He had never giggled this much in his life. Hell, he couldn’t remember ever giggling. What was wrong with him?
“Bear…would you kindly… fetch some whiskey from the wagon?” he finally managed to ask.
The others, all laughing or smiling now too, stared at him in amazement. He was always the last to suggest strong beverage.
“I’ll get the cups,” he said, ignoring their questioning looks, and finally regaining control of himself.
Bear opened the jug and poured a modest amount for each of the ladies and, as was customary, a more generous portion for the men.
Stephen raised his cup for a toast, a rare gesture for him that left even Jane’s mouth gaping open. “To our brother Edward, who gave us this worthy beverage. We miss him, but hope he and his are well and prospering.”
In his grief, Stephen decided Edward had been right. Now, he realized they had both been right. If he could have prevented his daughters’ deaths by staying in New Hampshire, he would have. But there was no way to know that. He knew only one thing for sure. He was not giving up.
“To Edward,” they all repeated.
Stephen took a hearty gulp and then did something even more unusual for him. He smiled at each of them as he slowly looked around the campfire. “I guess you are all wondering what rock I hit my head on or some such thing. Well, not every night is a man and his family reunited,” he said, looking at Jane, “not only safe, but blessed with another member. Kelly has decided to join us and to head towards Kentucky. Kelly you should feel as a sister to us.
“We also have the good fortune of Catherine’s company. Jane tells me that you have been a companion and helpmate to her in my absence. I thank you for that Catherine. You too are welcome. I hope that we can ease the burden of losing your husband. To Kelly and Catherine, may our family be your family.”
Everyone drank again except Kelly who still hadn’t tasted the liquor.
Stephen noticed that she only stared at the cup, fear in her eyes. He suspected she had never tasted whiskey and had only seen its abuse by her father. He casually ambled over and stood next to her, and said, “Kelly, strong drink should be consumed only in moderation. When consumed in excess, it can cause men, and women for that matter, to behave unsuitably. A small amount won’t do much more than warm your insides. But you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to. You’re an adult now, and it’s your choice, no one else’s.”
She titled her head in a nod, seeming to appreciate his brotherly advice. Kelly cautiously sipped and managed not to choke on it, then wrinkled her nose and shook her head.
He chuckled at her. “It takes some getting used to.”
“Thank you Stephen for your kind toast,” Catherine said. “I’ll be forever indebted to you and William for finding my husband’s killers and recovering my property—especially James’ steed.” She left unsaid that they had killed the murderers too.
“I thank you too Mr. Wyllie,” Kelly echoed, “and you too William.”
“Let’s have some fun for a change,” William suggested. He strode over to the wagon to retrieve his violin.
They spent the warm evening in relaxed conversation and storytelling, while William supplied a medley of popular tunes in the background. Kelly sat spellbound next to William the entire time, tapping her foot and enjoying the music immensely. She told them she had only heard music once before when her Ma had taken her to town when she was very young.
John had taken first watch, while Bear and Sam stood around Catherine, who sat on her trunk. Stephen and Jane watched with amusement as the two men took turns exchanging exaggerated truths and stories, clearly competing for the most heroic or colorful tale. Nearly as skilled a storyteller as Jane, Bear seemed to be winning this round.
“‘Twas the darkest and hottest night I’ve ever spent in the wild. Na moon at all and clouds covered the wee stars. The air hung still and muggy. As ye know, I’m furred much like a bear, and in the hotter months, these heavy buckskin-huntin’ shirts are a curse. I decided maybe the best way to cool off was a dip in the river without clothes at all. I hiked about fifty yards down to the river from my camp. I moved slowly into the cool water, easin’ into it, when several squaws came out of the woods on the opposite bank. They were blitherin’ happily, as women often do when doin’ chores together. When they saw me, they screamed, ‘wendigo, wendigo,’ and pointed at me.”
Their group roared with laughter. Most had heard the story several times before, but it seemed more amusing each time Bear told it.
Bear scowled at them, but continued the story. “Ye are probably are na aware, Catherine, but the Indian man is hairless on his face and chest. So, to them I appeared more animal than man. They ran hysterical and screamin’ back to their camp. I could hear their screams for a long while.”
Bear paused they were all laughing so hard. “I was na goin’ to wait around to see if they had any braves willin’ to hunt a wendigo at night, so I made my way back to my camp, packed up and scampered out of there.”
“What’s a wendigo?” Catherine asked.
“’Tis an Indian name for an inhuman, supernatural demon creature capable of changing from a man into a beast—usually a bear. The bear hunts on moonless nights and rips to shreds any man or woman it finds. It kills for the pure pleasure of it. Na human is strong enough to defend against it,” Bear explained.
“We do become more like wendigo than men when we fight,” Sam said, turning serious.
“Aye, Captain. True enough. In battle, we are more beast than man,” Bear said, taking a large swallow of his second cup of whiskey.
“Sometimes a man must become savage to survive,” Sam said.
As he did the first night they came together to discuss going to Kentucky, Stephen hoped that when the time came, he and his brothers would be savage enough to survive the violence of the wilderness.
Sam took a sip of his whiskey and returned to storytelling. “The beast that gets under my skin is the panther, and one nearly did. She stalked me for a mile or more. I was on foot hunting with my do
gs. I prefer to hunt on foot. A horse makes too much noise,” he explained for Kelly and Catherine’s benefit. “Well, this panther stayed down wind of the dogs so they wouldn’t sense her. A panther makes no sound when it moves, but I knew she was there. Every now and then, I could see her burning yellow eyes glowing in the timber. I tried to get her in my sights but she moved too swiftly. A gun is a poor weapon against such a quick moving animal. I saw her spring from the ground to a tree limb higher than a two-story house. She watched me from her perch for a bit, then she climbed down and slowly crept up behind me. She stalked me silently for some time. All the while, I knew she edged closer and closer. It was just a matter of time before she attacked. At last, she decided to make herself known. First, she just stared at me with pure disdain. I have never had a man look at me with such complete scorn and total contempt. Then, she let out a scream, high and blood curdling. All the dogs ran, except one. Old King was clearly not fond of the sound of that panther either, but he stuck right by my side, growling deep and fierce in his chest as she approached even closer.”
“What happened?” Catherine asked, spellbound.
“When you can see yourself in the panther’s eye, you know you’re in trouble. The cat and I both understood we were going to battle. I once saw a panther bring down an elk more than three times its size, so I knew King and I were in for a fight for our lives. She screamed again, like a woman in pain or in terror. This time, it was a warning. A notice that she was about to make a kill. As she sprang toward King, I fired, but she moved so fast, I just nicked her shoulder. He took a wicked claw up his middle and then she went for his neck. She was big, easily more than twice his size. I pulled my knife and jumped her. She took a swipe at my face. That’s where this scar came from,” Sam said, pointing to his chin. “We went a couple of rounds. I felt her claws begin to penetrate my back, and just as my blade found her throat, her jaws wrapped around my arm. She collapsed on her side, my arm still in her mouth. King lifted his head, smelled her hot blood. He saw that I was all right, laid his head back down, and died.”
Wilderness Trail of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 1) Page 21
