Feeling Zeke's eyes on her, Mara held up the tiny garment for his inspection. He nodded approvingly.
"Zeke, do you ever have visitors?" she said, frowning as she pricked her finger with the sharp needle.
He took a draw on his pipe, and exhaled slowly. "Yeah, me and Jake knows this trapper go's by the name of Du Lac. If he has any other name no one knows about it. Some years he comes to spend a few weeks with us, if the winter is hard."
"Tell me about him," Mara said, wanting to hear about anyone. To her the only people who existed in the whole world were Jake and Zeke.
"Well, Jake don't like him much, says there's something shifty about him, but I like him well enough. He is a right handsome man, and if he is to be believed, quite a man with the ladies. He is kind of a gentleman, talks all fancy. He told me once he had to leave France, got into some kind of trouble with the law. He don't talk much about himself, but most men you meet out here are closemouthed about their past."
“Will I meet him?"
"Like as not you will. I spect he will show up one day soon."
Mara bit her lip, trying to make a neat row of stitches. "If he is from France, I wonder what he is doing out here trapping?"
"Me and Jake wondered the same thing. But out here you learn to take a man for what he is. You either like a man or you don't. Me, I like Du Lac."
Mara broke off the thread, tied a knot in it, and turned the baby gown over to make a seam on the other side. "Zeke, do you ever wonder if the Indians you rescued me from are searching for me?" she asked thinking of her dream about the old Indian man and the tall handsome one who haunted her dreams.
"Nope. Leastwise not the two we took you from. If they ain't dead they ought to be."
Mara felt a pain in her heart as she thought of the beautiful Indian with the liquid brown eyes. She was not sure if he was real or just a figment of her imagination, but she could not bear to think of him as being one of the Indians Jake and Zeke had killed. She felt deep sadness in her heart, thinking of his beautiful eyes closed in death. It was almost as if she could feel his caressing hands on her body, and she shivered.
"Zeke, tell me what the two Indians looked like that you shot," she said through trembling lips.
He closed his eyes, as if trying to remember, then he smiled at her. "They were different somehow from any other Injuns I have ever seen. They was tall. One of them fell into the river, so I didn't get a good look at him, and the other one was nice-looking, if you could call an Injun good-looking."
Mara felt a tightening in her chest. Oh no, please god, do not let it be the man in my dreams who is dead. She felt such a sadness she was having trouble trying not to cry.
"If you fear some members of the tribe that took you will come looking for you, be at rest. I don't think they could track us here," he said with more confidence than he really felt. He and Jake had discussed the possibility of the Indians' trying to find the princess. It was not likely that they would want to give up one with her beauty so easily. They had decided that the Indians might think she had drowned in the floodwaters, and given up the search.
"I do not think I will ever remember who I am, Zeke. I have about decided that I may spend the rest of my life as someone with no past and no name."
"Me and Jake have been studying on that. We thought once the little one is born, we will take you to see the doctor at the trading post and let him look at you. It might be he can help you."
"What is a doctor doing living at a trading post, Zeke?"
"Doc White is a real doctor, all right. He once treated people in Virginia, till he came out here and found he could make more money selling goods and trading with the Injuns and trappers. He still treats folks when the need arises."
"Do you suppose he can help me?"
"We won't know less we try. He's a good man, and if anyone can help you, he can."
"How far is it to this trading post?"
"No more than three or four days. But don't you fret none, we will bundle the baby up real good, and take a tent for you to sleep in. Me and Jake will take it real slow, so as not to tire you out."
Mara gathered up the tiny garment she had been sewing on and folded it neatly. "I try not to think about the baby," she said softly.
Zeke took her hand in his. "Princess, it won't make no never mind to me and Jake if your baby is . . ."he was red-faced and could not meet her eyes. "Me and Jake will like having a little one around."
"I wish I could feel as you do. I know it is not right to resent this baby, but I cannot help myself."
"You just give yourself time. As my pa used to say, 'don't go borrowing trouble, it will find you on its own.' "
Mara stood up and walked over to the door and opened it a crack to peer out. There was a thick layer of snow covering the ground, and the wind was blowing it into high snowdrifts. Closing the door, she returned to the warmth of the fire.
"I wish Jake were here. I have had the strangest feeling we are being watched. I do not know why, it is just a feeling."
Zeke removed his rifle from the pegs where it hung over the fireplace. "I'll just go out and have a look around if it will make you feel any better," he told her.
Matio looked skyward, and the snow fell on his face like icy fingers. The deerskin wrap he was using for warmth barely reached his knees and did little to keep out the cold winds. He shivered, wondering why he continued to search for his queen, since there had been no sign of encouragement. There was nothing for him to follow, but still some force drove him on, refusing to allow him to turn back. If he could only find something that would tell him he was going in the right direction. Anything to give him hope.
The cold winds intensified, and his body was numb. He knew he would have to find some kind of shelter, or he would freeze to death. He soon found a hollowed-out log. Turning one end of it so it was blocked by the trunk of a tree, he crawled inside hoping to find some protection from the cold. The wind could not reach him now, but he wondered if he would ever feel warm again. Crawling out, he decided he needed to find something to block the other end of the log. He took a step and then cried out in pain. Something sharp had penetrated his moccasin. Feeling around in the snow, he searched for the offending object. When he found it he held it up so he could see what it was. Matio stared at the golden medallion in total disbelief. It was the same neckpiece the queen had worn. There could be no doubt, for he had seen it many times.
Joy leaped into his heart. The Great Father must have been guiding his footsteps, he thought. For the first time in many weeks, there was hope in his heart. The queen must be nearby. He did not question how the medallion came to be in the woods. Some things were not meant for mortals to know. One must merely accept them on faith.
It was beginning to grow dark, and he knew he would have to wait until the morning to renew his search. But now he knew the queen was near, and he would find her. Crawling back into the hollow log he pulled the scant deerskin tightly about him and fell asleep clutching the golden medallion that belonged to his queen.
It was not full light when Matio awoke. Crawling out of the log, he started off at a run, ignoring the hunger pangs, as well as the cold. He felt confident in his heart that he would find some sign of the queen today.
He had hardly gone any distance, when his keen hearing picked up an unfamiliar sound. He dropped quickly to his stomach and peered through the branches of a bush. There was a large clearing just ahead with some crude kind of structure built on it.
Slowly and silently he crept closer until he had a better view of the cabin. There was a man chopping wood with a strange-looking object. The man's hair was red, and to Matio's surprise he saw the man had the same red hair growing on his chin. His eyes moved from the man to the cabin. He watched as the smoke curled from the chimney, rising into the sky to mix with the snow.
He was wondering if the queen could be in the cabin, when the door opened and a woman came out. She was bundled up in warm furs, but there was no mistaking her, e
ven from a distance.
He had found his queen!
Matio resisted the urge to call out to her. Not that he feared the man with the flaming hair, but there might be others inside the cabin, and he could not risk the queen's safety.
His heart was drumming inside his chest, and he felt great happiness wash over him. He had to find a way to communicate with her, to let her know he was near, ready to help her escape. Reaching into his leather pouch, he withdrew the medallion. That was what he could use to send her his message that her rescue was at hand.
All day Matio stayed at his vantage point. The queen did not reappear, but the man with the flaming hair came out of the cabin several times.
As night began to creep over the land the snowfall intensified. Matio crept out of his hiding place and moved cautiously toward the cabin. The windows were boarded up so he could see nothing that was going on inside the small structure. Looking about he tried to find someplace to put the medallion so she might find it. Seeing the strange handle on the door, he hung the chain over it, and then faded into the darkness, knowing the heavy snowfall would soon cover his tracks. The queen did not appear to be in any danger, so he would wait and watch, hoping to find her alone.
Mara was tired, and her back had been bothering her all day, so she had decided she would go to bed early. She and Zeke had been expecting Jake home, but he had not appeared before dinner. Mara and Zeke had eaten together and she had left Jake's dinner warming in case he did return.
She was halfway up the ladder when the front door opened and Jake entered. She watched as he shook the snow from his hooded jacket.
"You are late. We began to think you would not return tonight," she told him.
Jake looked up to her and grinned broadly. "Did you misplace something, princess?" he asked removing his glove and holding something out to her.
Mara gasped as she saw the medallion. "Where did you find it, Jake?" she said in a weak voice.
"It was hanging on the doorknob. You ought to be more careful with it. Unless I miss my guess, it is very valuable."
Mara climbed down the ladder on shaky legs. When she reached the floor, she stood as if paralyzed. Finally, she reached for the medallion and it felt warm in her hand, as she knew it would.
"Jake, did the medallion feel warm to you?" she asked.
He looked taken aback for a moment, not understanding her question. "No, of course not, it's cold as ice. It's been hanging outside in the snow. Why do you ask?"
Mara merely shook her head, knowing she could never tell Jake about the strange effect the medallion had on her. Nor would she tell him she had thrown it away in the woods. Climbing up the ladder, she lay down on the soft furs. Clutching the golden chain, she closed her eyes. How was it possible that the medallion had been found, and by whom? She no longer doubted that it had some strange power, nor would she resist it any longer. She was frightened, but she would try to find out tonight what the medallion was trying to show her.
Inside the cave, high among the mountains of the hidden valley, Sagas the wise watched as the flames from the fire he had built, leapt higher and higher, as it gave off a silver-blue glow.
"Very good, Matio. Now she has the medallion. You were easy to control. When you wanted to give up, I urged you onward. Mara, you are a bit harder to control. You keep trying to resist. Now that you have the medallion, it will not be so difficult. You must not put it on until you are with me. It would be too dangerous. Keep it with you and I will help you find your way home."
Mara held the strange, mysterious object above her head. "What do you want of me?" she asked, thinking if anyone could hear her talking to the medallion, they would think her crazed.
She wondered what would happen if she were to slip it over her head. Raising it, she was in the process of putting it on when the chain became entangled in her hair and she cried out in pain. The more she tried to untangle it the more tangled it became. Tears of pain moistened her eyes, and with a final yank she dislodged it from her hair, but not without pulling several strands of golden hair out by the roots.
She saw a faint movement against the far wall. It appeared the same as before, a smoky mist without form. Her eyes widened as the mist formed itself into the shape of the old Indian.
"Who are you? What do you want of me?" she asked in a soft whisper.
"Do not again attempt to put the medallion on. Had you done as I asked you to and not taken it off, you would know who I am."
"W . . . what do you want with me?"
"Merely to show you the way home."
"I am frightened!"
"I know, but you have nothing to fear. You are seeking who you are."
"Who am I? If you know, please show me."
"Close your eyes, rest, come with me on a journey. A journey where you will find that which you seek."
Mara closed her eyes, soothed by the sound of the old man's voice. She was in total darkness, and she felt as if her body were being lifted into the air, but she knew that she had not moved, for she could feel the soft fur beneath her. Time had no meaning, and she felt neither hot nor cold. She felt only movement, as if her body were being transported to another place.
She was in a woods. It was snowing, and yet she walked barefoot through the snow without feeling cold.
There was some kind of tent just ahead, not the usual kind of Indian teepee, but a huge white tent. She ran toward it wanting to see what was on the inside. Pushing the flap aside, she entered. Her eyes searched the interior—searching for what? She saw a man lying on a white fur robe. It was he! The beautiful Indian! She moved closer to him, but he did not appear to see her.
"Can you tell me who I am?" she asked, but he did not answer. His dark eyes moved past her as if he did not see her.
"I know I am dreaming. That is why you cannot see me."
If he could not see her, she could venture closer. She could even touch him and he would not know it. Going down on her knees beside him, she touched his face shyly. He did not respond, and yet she could feel the warmth of his skin. Sliding her hand downward, she felt the mighty strength of his muscled chest, which was bare. He wore nothing but a white loincloth, and her eyes traveled over his chest to his flat stomach. She saw his long, powerful legs. Surely there had never been a man to match this one in power or handsomeness. Raising her head, she looked into eyes that were as black as the night, soft magnetic eyes that seemed to pull at her heart.
She drew in her breath when she saw that the dark eyes looked sad and misty. She felt such pain in her heart, and a tear formed at the corner of the dark orbs and rolled down his bronze cheek. He was sad, and it tore at her. She wanted to comfort him. With a trembling hand, she wiped a tear from his cheek, and found it felt wet to her fingertip.
"Why do you cry? Who has hurt you?" she whispered, feeling his heartache as if it were her own.
His dark eyes shifted and it seemed he was staring right at her. She drew in her breath thinking he had seen her at last.
"I wish ... I wish I could help ease your pain," she said tenderly.
He closed his eyes, and she resented the fact that he had not seen her at all. With shaking fingers, she touched his long ebony hair and found it to be soft. Her hand drifted down his face to his strong chin, then she tentatively touched his sensitive lips. Strong feelings of desire were fanned to life within her body as she lowered her head to kiss his warm lips. She hesitated at her own daring. Feeling his warm breath on her lips, she kissed him softly. There was no response, so she raised her head.
Opening his eyes he spoke for the first time: "Let me die. I feel such pain and hopelessness. I no longer want to live."
"No!" She screamed. "No! You must not say that! I do not want anything to happen to you." She could feel her body being pulled away from him, and she grabbed on to his arm, not wanting to leave him. "Do not take me back. Let me remain with him," she pleaded, but even as she spoke the mist was swirling about her, and she felt herself being transported into the n
ight skies.
She struggled, trying to return to the Indian, but it was useless. She felt a pain rip through her body and she was falling, falling. There was another pain and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Suddenly the mist disappeared and she was back in her room in the loft. Nothing seemed real to her but the pain . . . and it was all too real! She placed her hand on her stomach and felt it contract. Just when she thought she could no longer stand the pain, it subsided. She was breathing in short gasps. Her body arched as the next pain caught her unaware, and she cried out. The child she did not want was fighting to be born.
Mara became aware that Jake was kneeling beside her. "Is the baby coming, princess?" he asked in a voice filled with fear.
Mara nodded, unable to speak. Jake ran to the ladder and called down to his brother. "Boil some water, the baby is coming!"
The hours that followed were like a living nightmare. Mara tried to be brave and not scream, but sometimes she could not stop herself. She was hardly aware that Jake was beside her, speaking to her soothingly.
Each time a pain would rip her body she became rigid. She squeezed her hand tightly into a fist and felt the medallion. She heard the old Indian's voice as plainly as if he were standing right beside her, but Jake did not seem to hear him at all.
"Do not fight against the child, it will be born with or without your help. It will go better for you if you give in," the old Indian said to her.
He was right, she thought. The child would be born and nothing she could do would stop it. When the next pain came, she allowed herself to bear down, with all her strength. When the first rays of sunlight covered the land, Mara heard the first cry of her baby.
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Savage Splendor (Savage Lagonda 2) Page 13
