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

by Dorothy Wiley

  “Poor King,” Catherine lamented.

  “I haven’t had another dog since. I could never find one that good again. I skinned that cat. The beast made a fine rug in my old cabin. I like to think King appreciated it every time I stepped on it,” Sam said, half grinning at the thought.

  The stories went on for some time, the whiskey loosening both their memories and their tongues. After the first hour, Stephen grabbed Jane’s hand and briskly led her away from the camp, carrying both their weapons and his cloak. It was time they talked.

  And, his body ached for her touch.

  CHAPTER 33

  The night sky shimmered like a velvet canopy studded with God’s most perfect diamonds as they strolled away from camp.

  “Stephen I know I was brutal with my blame. I just missed Amy and Mary so much it nearly made me lose my mind,” Jane said, her voice near breaking. “I can still smell them on their blankets. Every time I do, it makes me think I can find them if I just look hard enough. And then I realize, there’s nowhere to look.”

  He struggled not to let his own pain surface.

  “It breaks my heart every time I touch Amy’s doll or Mary’s little cup. I can’t stop those feelings. I’ve tried. God knows I’ve tried.” Jane stopped and turned to face him. “I didn’t want to blame you, but I did. And honestly, a part of me still does. A small part. But I understand now why you had to make this journey. I’m struggling to completely forgive both of us, not just you. Maybe with your help I can. In the meantime, I promise I want to be by your side. Just be patient with me and for heaven’s sake talk to me.”

  He reached for her hand and held it against his chest. That promise was enough for now. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it. My despair—for you and for me—was too overwhelming. You were right. I was responsible. This trip was my doing. Mine. No one else’s. I put their lives in danger. It was a much easier thing to do in Barrington than out here.” He realized he would have to work at forgiving himself. “And when it happened…I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it. It made me feel like I failed both you and them.” The admission wounded him, but he felt better having said it.

  “No, you didn’t fail them or me. As Sam helped me to understand, the girls could have died anywhere. Illness often strikes children, no matter where they are.”

  He took a deep steadying breath. “I do love you and the children more than any piece of land. You know how much I want land, but I want you more. Without you, land is just dirt. All that is beautiful and important about it is lost. As I told you before I left with William, nothing in this world is more important than my love for you and our family.”

  A tear slid down Jane’s check. “We lost two of our girls, but God will bless us with more children, sons as well as daughters.” A shadow fell over her face. “But, if ever we face something like this again, we have to talk to each other. I needed you. I needed to feel your arms around me. But instead, like a fool, I shut you out. I withdrew and you left me alone. The more you stayed away, the angrier I got. Damn it, Stephen, we can’t shut each other out like that ever again.”

  “I was trying to give you time to heal. I didn’t shut you out. But I did shut me in. I was afraid to let myself out. You wouldn’t have liked what you saw. You would have stopped loving me.”

  “Maybe I did stop loving you for a while.”

  “When I rode off with William, I believed you had.” He shuddered at the recollection.

  “I’m sorry. I was just so full of rage, I had no room for other feelings. But that’s gone now. There’s still some heartache, but no more resentment.”

  “The pain is still there for me too,” he said quietly.

  She kissed the back of his hand. “I’ve missed talking to you.”

  “I know you’ve been lonely.”

  “Yes, though not as much since Catherine’s been with us,” Jane said.

  “It’s good that you have some female companionship for a change. What are her plans, do you know?”

  “She wanted reassurance that you were amenable to the idea of her joining us. She didn’t want to be a burden.”

  “I made my mind up on the way back. For some reason, fate put these two women in our path. I think they were meant to join us. Why, I don’t know. But whatever the reason, it’s the right thing to do.”

  “I’m horrified by what happened to Kelly. Do you think she’ll ever get over it?” Jane asked.

  “Yes. She seems to be a woman of strong faith. And I think it’s helped to have William treat her with such kindness.”

  “She’s a lovely young woman, but the poor girl’s as thin as a reed and wearing a beggar’s clothes. Do you think she’d mind if I gave her a gown? I think I have one that will fit her if she belts it.”

  “What she’s wearing is little more than a rag. I don’t believe she’s had a new dress since her mother died about four years ago. Speaking of gowns, is this one getting a little snug?” he asked, wrapping her waistline with both hands.

  “It’s not from eating too much. It’s this big son of yours.” She smiled broadly and rubbed her still flat tummy.

  His heart leapt. He stopped abruptly, tossed down their rifles and his cloak, and gently placed his hands on either side of her face. “You’re with child again?”

  Jane nodded. Her green eyes twinkled with the radiance of pure joy, her sorrow forgotten for the moment.

  Her news made his heart dance. He had longed for a son to carry on his name. “A son! But how can you know? That’s impossible.”

  “I just do. It’s your first son and he’s going to be a big one. I think he’ll be at least the size of Sam. Unlike the girls, he has me craving food and milk so that I can hardly think of anything else. I think I was more excited to see Kelly’s chickens and milk cow than I was to see you,” she said, her face breaking into a wide smile.

  “Have you told the others?”

  “Only Catherine. She didn’t understand why I hadn’t told you before you left. But I couldn’t tell you then. I had nothing to share but anger. But now, I want to share this with you.”

  He gazed deeply into her eyes. They seemed even greener when she was with child. Maybe it was the magic of new life growing inside of her. He saw a spark there that renewed his determination.

  He started pacing as his mind raced. “We’ll need to hurry to Kentucky now. My son’s going to be born on our land—not in some damn wagon.” He realized Jane wanted nothing more herself. She’d want to have her son in a bed in their home. “I promise I’ll build us a fine home there—and our bedroom will have an enormous bed, with plenty of room to make more sons. And daughters, of course.”

  “Ah…so you’re already thinking about our bed and how we might use it?”

  Stephen felt a smile tug at his lips, but ignored her quip. Instead, he gently kissed her, tasting the honeyed whiskey she’d had earlier. He swept her into the circle of his arms. He had missed the feel of holding her. It was like wrapping his arms around heaven.

  He wanted to love her, but first he wanted her to know that she was loved. He continued to just hold her, pressing their hearts together until they nearly beat as one.

  She rested her head on his shoulder and he softly stroked her head for some time, content with just holding her until she was ready for more. Life had been ugly lately, but now he could feel some of the beauty returning. “My love,” he whispered into her hair.

  She gazed at him with eyes shimmering with happiness. “I’ve missed you.”

  “And I you, my darling, with all my heart.” Just looking at her made his blood burn, his desire surge, his heart soar. But he wanted more.

  He immersed his hands in her long thick curls. He let his fingers savor the silky feel of her tresses and then he let them wander to the luscious curves of her back and hips. He wanted to touch every inch of her. And he would soon. He stopped his exploration of her body and leaned his forehead against hers. “I hope you’re right about it being a son,” he whispered,
“but, I just want you to be safe and well after childbirth. That’s all that matters to me.”

  “I haven’t had any serious trouble yet. I’m strong. Many generations of my Scots ancestors birthing big stubborn babies made us especially good at giving birth.”

  “That’s not the only thing you’re especially good at,” he said, smiling and moving his hands to explore the curves of her backside. She felt so good to his touch, strong, yet softly feminine. His hands trembled with eagerness.

  Maybe he could love her enough to help heal her shattered heart and perhaps soon she could forgive him completely. And, he knew her love would absolutely help to revive his own crushed heart. Together, they could become whole again.

  “What else am I especially good at?” she asked, smiling.

  “Storytelling.” He touched her lips with his finger.

  Her smile lit up the night. “What else?”

  “Biscuits.”

  She laughed. “What else?”

  “Your stew.”

  She cackled even harder.

  Her boisterous laugh warmed his heart more than he could have imagined.

  He lowered his lips to hers, and kissed her fully and deeply, until he felt her body press into his, asking for more. And he would give it to her—much more.

  He longed for that big bed they would soon have, so he could kiss all of her exquisite body. He never tired of finding ways to please her and the longer they were together, the more imaginative he had become.

  As he stroked his thumbs across the front of her bodice, he felt the evidence of her arousal through her gown. Time to remove that barrier.

  He began helping her take off her many layers of clothing—gown, stays, petticoats, and other sundry items he didn’t know, or want to know, by name, and finally her shift—a process which never failed to test his patience. But he was always rewarded in the end.

  She stood before him her body unveiled, except for her white stockings and boots. Her ivory skin glowed in the moonlight. Her thick hair seemed to go on forever, nearly reaching her waist. He stared in awe at her beauty. Her breasts full and her limbs long and slim, she took his breath away. Stephen stared like a mad man, but he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. It had been so long, so very long, since he had seen and touched her as a husband.

  He moved closer and rested his hands on the curves of her hips, then he slowly eased his hands behind her, filling his fingers with her soft bottom. It fit his hands perfectly. Everything about her fit him perfectly. Everything.

  He tossed his cloak to the ground and then shed his coat and waistcoat, while her hands unfastened the ties of his breeches. She reached down and gently caressed him. Her persuasive caress invited more. He groaned as his body, so sensitive to her delicate touch, reacted. He could stand there forever surrendering himself to her attentions.

  He buried his face in her freshly washed curls. He inhaled deeply, reveling in the scent that reminded him of rainwater and roses. The hair’s striking red color mirrored Jane’s personality—fiery and full of life.

  And, as he took her hands, she was radiant with that fire now. Her eyes glistened as she licked her full lips. She tossed the thick strands of hair covering her alluring breasts to her back.

  His eyes grew wide. He found himself staring again. She was driving him mad with longing. The primal heat rose between them, palatable, powerful, and intense enough to set the wilderness on fire.

  She tugged off his shirt, and the rest of his clothes quickly followed. He stood naked before her and her green eyes flashed with passion. She stepped forward and ran all her fingers through the hair on his chest and across his taut nipples, making him shiver. He surrendered completely to her seduction as she trailed light kisses across the muscles of his chest. A moan slipped through his lips when he felt her breasts press against him. She snuggled against his neck and one of her legs wrapped around him as he held her waist in his hands.

  When she crushed her lips to his, he returned her kiss with a hunger so desperate it startled him. He loved her before, but now, his feelings for her were even stronger. He had learned what the absence of that love meant. And he never wanted her more than he did now.

  He quickly found all his weapons and placed them on the ground next to them. Glad he had brought his cloak to protect them from the night air, he extracted the garment from his pile of his clothing and spread it out before her. A temporary sanctuary for their love.

  He gestured gallantly toward the cloak. “My lady.” He took her hand.

  “Tell me again, what else am I especially good at, my prince?” she asked breathlessly, as she settled down on his cloak.

  As he dropped down next to her, she moved toward him, her green eyes flaring brightly with desire. The warmth of her flesh against him was intoxicating. His hand skimmed across her hip and thigh as he thought about his answer. He liked this game.

  “Massaging my shoulders.”

  She placed a hand on each of his shoulders, her touch soft and caressing, yet it sparked a searing need.

  “What else?”

  “Kissing.” His lips came coaxingly down on hers.

  Her kiss was as challenging as it was thrilling. Passion coursed through his entire length then swirled around him, encircling them both in its blazing flames.

  “What...”

  He thought it best to show her.

  CHAPTER 34

  “Little John, wake up,” Stephen said, shaking the boy’s shoulder.

  “What is it Uncle? Indians?” Little John sat up, wide-eyed.

  “No, no. We’re going hunting, you, me, and Uncle Sam.”

  “No fooling?” He scampered for his boots and jacket.

  “Be quiet now. Don’t wake the girls,” he whispered. “They need their beauty sleep.”

  “Martha needs to sleep for a month,” Little John said, already exhibiting the Wyllie wit.

  They joined Sam who was getting dressed.

  “Are you sure your ankle has healed up enough for a long hunt?” Stephen asked quietly.

  “Yes, it feels nearly new again and I’m more than ready to test it,” Sam answered. “I can always turn back if it becomes a problem.”

  The three hunters were on their way before daylight. Sam led them through the open dew-covered field toward the timberline to the north. The air smelled clean, like someone had scrubbed it with soap overnight.

  “We’ll get away from these open meadows and head up into those hills. There should be deer or wild pig up there,” Sam said over his shoulder.

  By dawn, they climbed the lush green hills at a steady pace. The exercise felt good to Stephen’s saddle stiff legs. Little John kept up without too much difficulty, but started breathing harder when the climb got steeper.

  “Need a lift Little John?” Stephen asked. “Jump up here on my back.”

  “No Sir, thank you anyway,” Little John said without slowing.

  Normally, the boy enjoyed riding on his uncles’ back. But Stephen suspected that his nephew wanted to carry his own weight today, to be a hunter, not a little boy.

  Little John caught his breath while Stephen and Sam stopped to check the load of their Kentucky rifles.

  Sam spoke to Little John quietly. “From here on, don’t talk. If you spot game, tap me on the back, and point to it. Walk only behind me, but not so close that branches snap back at you,” Sam instructed. “And watch where you step—avoid snakes and dry branches—or you’ll scare off anything worth shooting at.”

  “Hunting sure has a lot of rules,” Little John said, “but I’ll do just what you said, Uncle Sam, especially the part about snakes.”

  Little John gawked at Stephen’s rifle. Nearly five feet long, it was longer than the boy was tall.

  “It goes on forever,” Little John said, his neck tilted back to see the end of the rifle. “The Captain’s knife is even scarier. It’s as long as my arm. The biggest knife in the whole world.”

  “It might be,” Sam said
with a wink at Little John.

  “This is the best day of my life. No question. Hunting with the two bravest men to ever live. I want to be just like you,” Little John declared.

  Stephen didn’t know if he was one of the bravest men to ever live, but Sam surely was. They both had a lot they could teach the boy.

  Sam waved them on. His brother moved so quietly for such a big man. He watched how Sam advanced. Somehow, before he took each step, Sam could see what lay on the path. At the same time, he took in everything around him in the woods too, while stepping around any dry twigs or branches.

  The timber grew thick and dark here. Hardwoods covered in tangled vines and giant pines kept the light out. Stephen hoped they would pass through this oppressive darkness soon. It felt like being in a cave, a big cave full of shadows, and you knew you weren’t alone. He was sure strange and ferocious creatures lived in this dreary place.

  Little John glanced behind him, probably wanting to be sure Stephen was close by. He was. If his nephew wanted to run back and jump in his arms, he wouldn’t blame the boy. It seemed like a forest without end as Sam wove his way through the gloom.

  Finally, they passed into the light where rocky hills rose and fell like waves on a sea. They hiked until Stephen’s feet were sore from the rocks before Sam finally halted. When he did, Little John froze in his tracks. Stephen did too. The last thing he wanted to do was scare off whatever game Sam had spotted. He watched as Sam silently knelt down to balance his long rifle on one knee. Sunlight reflected off the long shiny barrel as his brother lined up the sights.

  He heard a bird singing nearby and then the hard click of the rifle’s hammer. He peered in the direction of Sam’s aim. A deer stood just inside the edge of another thick stand of trees. The animal stood frozen for a moment—an instant that would end its life. He saw the animal fall in the distance. He released his breath.

  “Big doe, I think,” Sam said, looking back at him.