Savage Splendor (Savage Lagonda 2)

by Constance O'Banyon

  Jake set Mara down in the rocking chair and took his rifle down from the rack. "I have been studying on it. At first when I saw the footprints in the lean-to, I figured there was only one man. But now I'm not so sure."

  "How you figure that, Jake?" his brother asked.

  "Cause this Injun ain't got no fear. He comes in here and leaves his calling card, to let us know he's out there watching us."

  Zeke walked over and shot the bolt on the door, then checked to make sure the window was securely fastened. "We have to make sure the princess ain't never left alone, 'cause if I know Injuns, and I do, they will be watching and waiting."

  "Why have they not attempted to rush us and take her by force?" Du Lac asked, as he checked his rifle to make sure it was loaded.

  "Cause they must want her back real bad, but they don't want her to get hurt in an all-out fight," Jake said.

  Mara buried her face in her hands. She felt fear so strong it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  When she climbed the ladder to her room she was in a real state. Her secret fear had been realized. Mara was sure at any moment she would hear a wild whoop, and the Indians would surround the cabin, overcome them, and take her away.

  She felt she needed comfort from her fear, so she removed the medallion from the chest. Holding it up in the dim candlelight she read the inscription. I will seek who I am. She expected to see the old Indian man as she had on previous occasions. But he did not appear. Checking to see that Andrew was covered, she blew out the candle and lay down on the bed, still clutching the medallion.

  "Who am I?" she wondered aloud.

  "You are called Mara," a voice beside her spoke up.

  Turning her head she was not surprised to see the shadowy form of the old man. Suddenly her fear seemed to ebb, and she felt at peace. "Should I fear?" she asked.

  "Have no fear, Mara. Soon you will be on your way home. Close your eyes. Sleep, Mara."

  Her eyelids grew heavy, and she felt sleep overtake her. She closed her eyes and slept peacefully all night.

  The next morning the three men were surprised to find Mara so cheerful, knowing the night before she had been on the verge of hysteria. She smiled brightly as she prepared breakfast, and greeted each of them warmly as she poured them a cup of steaming hot coffee. They looked at her baffled when she sat down, propped her elbows on the table, and laughed out loud.

  "I know my name. I know who I am!"

  Jake halted his spoon halfway to his mouth. "What!"

  She lifted her cup of coffee to her mouth and took a sip, while three sets of eyes watched her. "My name is Mara."

  "What else do you remember?" Du Lac spoke up.

  "Nothing else, only my name."

  "But how can you recall your name and nothing else?" Du Lac asked. "Do you know what your last name is?"

  "No, all I know is my name is Mara. It is a strange name, is it not?"

  "If you know your name, it won't be long before you recollect more about yourself," Zeke said around a mouthful of corn mush.

  Mara stood up and spun around in a circle. "Is it not a glorious day?"

  "Shows you ain't been outside," Jake told her. "It's snowing and the wind is whipping up a blizzard."

  "I do not mean the weather. I mean life in general."

  Jake and Zeke watched her as if she had taken leave of her senses. Du Lac watched her thinking that somehow, some way, he had to have her.

  He was beginning to have crazy fantasies about her. Thought of settling down in one place, building a cabin, raising a family. He could almost envision himself returning to her at the end of each day. She would set a well prepared meal before him, and afterwards ... he would take her in his arms, and remove her clothing one thing at a time, until she lay naked in his arms. Du Lac could almost feel the silkiness of her skin.

  Good Lord! he thought, was he losing his mind? He had made himself a promise ten years ago when he had fled France, because of a woman, that he would never again become involved with the fair sex, and so far he had kept that promise. He had used women, yes, but they had not been important to him, merely objects. Something to be used for his pleasure and then tossed aside.

  Thinking back, he tried to recall what Monique had looked like, but he could not remember her face. She had been blond and beautiful, and at the time he had thought he loved her.

  Du Lac had been twenty-one years old that summer. He and the fair Monique had spent many happy hours in bed together. Their little affair had ended abruptly one night, when her husband, a wealthy merchant, had returned home unexpectedly and caught him and Monique in a very compromising situation.

  Two days later, Du Lac and Monique's enraged husband had faced each other on a field of honor. It had been pistols at twenty paces.

  Du Lac did not like to think of himself as a coward, but many witnesses that day had seen him fire his pistol early, killing his opponent instantly. He had fled the country, with the law not far behind him. He could never return to France. To do so would mean his arrest and imprisonment or even death.

  Watching Mara's lovely face, now all he could think of was making love to her. He was a man in love. He thought of all the women who had loved him, and how he had used them, only to toss them aside when he began to tire of them, but Mara was different from all other women.

  He had to find a way to get her alone. If she wished it, he would build her a cabin close by, where she could be near Jake and Zeke.

  He looked at the cradle where Andrew was sleeping. He was not too fond of the idea of raising another man's child, but Mara loved the baby, so he would allow her to keep him.

  He was beginning to feel confident that she would consent to become his wife. After all, she could not remember who she was, and she needed a man to look after her.

  "Mara," Du Lac said, testing her name out loud.

  "Yes," she answered.

  "I am glad to see you no longer fear the Indians. I will never let them harm you." He said confidently.

  Mara thought of the armband that had been left on her bed where she would be sure to find it. She had begun to wonder if the man who had left it might be the tall Indian she had dreamed of so often. She found herself hoping he was real and not someone she had imagined. Mara wondered what she would do if he were to come to her and ask her to go away with him. She was beginning to wonder if he might not be Andrew's father.

  "No I am not frightened of the Indians any longer," she said.

  Du Lac tested the tip of his hunting knife, then slipped it into the sheath about his waist. "That is good, Mara. But do not ever underestimate the Indians. They always seem to strike when least expected."

  As night fell, the winds died down and the clouds moved away, leaving a deep blanket of snow bathed in the bright moonlight, giving the illusion of daylight.

  Andrew was sleeping peacefully beside a warm fire, and Jake and Zeke were cleaning their guns.

  Mara felt restless, and she was on the point of being annoyed with the way the three men watched her every move. She had decided she could not live with the threat of Indians hanging over her head. Pulling a warm wrap about her shoulders, she walked to the door.

  "Where do you think you are going?" Jake said standing up abruptly.

  "I am going out for a breath of fresh air. I do not intend to spend the rest of my life shut away in this cabin."

  Jake was beginning to know her moods very well, and when she got that stubborn set to her chin it meant she would have her own way, or there would be all hell to pay.

  Du Lac had been waiting for the opportunity to get her alone, so he picked up his rifle and walked over to her.

  "I will go with her," he told Jake. Seeing doubt in Jake's eyes he patted his rifle. "Do not worry, we shall stay near the cabin."

  Outside, Mara took a deep breath of fresh air. "It is almost like an enchanted world," she said breathlessly. "The stars appear so close, I have the feeling I could reach out and touch them."

  Matio watched from hi
s hiding place, where he had been waiting all day. When he saw the queen, he almost called out to her, but then his eyes moved to the white man with the gun. He remembered very well how it felt to be hit with the fire from the weapon, and he did not want to feel the fire enter his body again.

  "Mara," Du Lac said lightly, not knowing how to tell her what was on her mind. He decided it would be best to lead up to it slowly. "There are two schools of thought about the stars. I wonder which one you subscribe to?"

  "What are my choices?"

  He smiled down at her. "One theory is that each star is a giant ball of fire, and, should one come within thousands of leagues of a star, he would be burned to ashes in the flickering of an eyelash. The other theory is that the stars are cold, and if you were to get too close to them you would freeze."

  "I do not want to believe either of your theories. I would like to think that each star is a world, very much like this one, with people who are similar to ourselves. I would like to think there is a place somewhere where the people live without fear and hunger, apart from the rest of the world. A special place ... an Eden." Mara frowned, as something flickered in her mind, but it was a fleeting thought, nothing she could hold on to.

  "I wish there were a place that was cut off from the rest of the world, where there was no greed, and no ugliness," she went on. When she saw how strangely Du Lac looked at her, she laughed nervously. "Of course there is no such place, is there?"

  Du Lac turned her around so she was facing him. He touched her golden hair lightly. "What a strange, exciting woman you are. Are you a witch who has come to earth from one of those faraway stars, to entrap poor mortals such as I in your enchanted web?"

  Matio could not understand the white man's words, but he could tell by his tone of voice that the man desired the queen. He waited to hear Mara rebuke the man, but when she spoke, her voice was soft.

  "I am nothing more than a woman who has lost her identity. I neither seek to ensnare a man nor would I welcome any show of affection from one."

  He tilted her chin up and stared into her green eyes. "Whether you set out to entrap me or not. I am indeed trapped. I myself did not see it coming. One day I walked into this cabin and there you were. When first I laid eyes on you I knew that I was a man who had lost his heart."

  He lowered his head, and Mara knew he was going to kiss her. At first she wanted to pull away, but she remembered her dreams where the tall Indian had kissed her, and she wondered if Du Lac's kiss would feel the same. When his lips touched hers it was no more to her than his warm lips pressed against her cold ones.

  Du Lac, however, was not having the same reaction to her. The feel of her soft lips caused his pulse to quicken and his heart to race.

  Anger burned in Matio's heart as he witnessed the kiss. He could not believe the queen he had loved and worshipped would allow anyone other than the king to kiss her. He wanted to rush forward and tear her out of the white man's arms. In his anger he wanted to drive his knife into the man's heart. He might very well have done that very thing, had not the sound of the queen's voice stopped him.

  Mara pushed Du Lac away from her, wishing she had not allowed him to kiss her. She was almost repelled by his touch. When he tried to pull her into his arms once more, she slipped away from him.

  "Do not again attempt to kiss me. You are no more than a stranger to me. I do not think I like being kissed very much," she said, thinking she was being unfair to Du Lac. She had been comparing him to the man in her dreams, and no one could compare with him.

  "I think you are only frightened of me. I have not been known for my patience in the past, but with you I am prepared to be very patient. I want you to be my wife."

  "No! You must not say this to me. I do not even know who I am. I do not want to hurt you, but I do not like you well enough to marry you, even if I did remember who I am," she told him, hoping he would not say anything more about marriage.

  "What about Andrew? He will need a father, and I am prepared to take on that role for him."

  "I am cold," Mara said, not wanting to talk to the Frenchman any longer. How could he expect she would marry him? She did not even know him. "I am going in now."

  Du Lac's eyes burned with anger. How dare she—a little nobody who did not even know who she was, who had given birth to an Indian brat—reject him. She would find out that he was not a man to say no to. He could do nothing for now, but the time would come when he would have her. He had offered her marriage, something he had offered no other woman. Now he would take her without benefit of a wedding.

  Matio stood up as he watched the door close. His heart was heavy. He felt his king had been betrayed, and, in some way, that he too had been betrayed. He was not yet ready to give up. He would watch until he found her alone, then he would go to her and see if she would return to the Seven Cities with him.

  14

  A glimmer of hope, from a bright golden sky.

  Will I find my love with the dark, brooding eyes?

  For the next week the weather remained clear. Jake had told Mara it was only temporary. It was the end of January and the winter had not yet released its hold on the land.

  Since the night Du Lac had asked Mara to marry him and she had refused, he had not attempted to approach her. She hoped he had forgotten all about the incident, but sometimes she would catch him watching her and would feel fear.

  Zeke and Du Lac had ridden out early that morning to check on their traps. Jake was at the back of the cabin chopping wood, and Andrew was asleep in his cradle.

  Mara folded a white flannel blanket and added it to the stack of clean clothes she had taken from the makeshift clothesline Jake had strung across the cabin.

  She heard Andrew stirring and bent over the cradle to smile down at him. "So, at last you are awake. You must be hungry." She lifted him in her arms, and unfastened her gown to nurse him. Andrew nursed hungrily, while Mara smiled down at him. Her heart overflowed with love for her dark-skinned son.

  "You are such ..." The door opened, and her heart stopped. She could still hear Jake chopping wood at the back, and she knew Zeke and Du Lac would not return until dark. Her hand went to her throat as she saw the Indian. He was not much older than herself, and he was tall and handsome, but he was not the one she had dreamed of so often. She tried to show a brave face. Zeke had told her that Indians respected bravery. She felt at that moment she must be the worst coward that had ever drawn a breath, because her legs were shaking and she felt like she might choke on her fear.

  "W . . . what do you want?" she said clutching Andrew tightly in her arms.

  "I do not understand when you speak in the white man's tongue," the Indian said, advancing toward her.

  He had spoken to her in another language and she had understood him clearly. Mara took a step backwards and came up against the cradle, unable to retreat any further.

  "What do you want?" she asked him, in the language he had spoken to her in.

  "I have come for you."

  She saw his dark eyes move to Andrew and she drew the blanket over his face, not wanting the man to see that her son was Indian. Her heart was drumming so loudly she was sure he could hear it. "Go away! I will not go with you. If you try to force me, I will scream, and I warn you, Jake will drive you away."

  Slowly, he stepped closer. She could not guess his intentions, but she could see he was not worried about her threat. There was something in his eyes, though. Was it sadness or disbelief?

  "Who does the baby belong to?" he asked. "I saw you with the white man."

  Mara frowned. Why should he want to know about the baby unless . . . unless he thought it might be his. She searched her mind to think of something to say to him that would make him go away. "My son is . . . the son of the white man," she said, fearing that if he discovered Andrew was of Indian blood he would force both of them to go away with him.

  He stepped in front of her and looked into her eyes. "Leave the child, then, come with me. We must hasten before the
man with the flaming hair returns."

  "No, I will not leave my baby, and I will not come with you."

  The young Indian's eyes narrowed. "Do they hold you here by force?" Matio asked, not understanding why she was not happy to see him.

  "No, I stay of my own free will. I wish you would go."

  "Is it your command that I leave?"

  "Yes, if it will make you go away, I command it."

  "What do I say to the k . . ."

  Just then the front door burst open and Jake stood with his rifle aimed at the Indian's chest. "Back away from her, Injun,” he said in an ominous voice.

  "Wait, Jake, he does not speak English, do not hurt him. He is just leaving," Mara cried.

  "I can overcome the man, and get you safely away," Matio said, giving her one more chance. "Do you come with me?"

  "Please go away, and do not come near me again," she said in a pleading voice.

  Matio did not understand what had happened to his queen. Why would she not return home with him? Did she no longer love the king? He backed away from her, keeping his eyes on Jake and the rifle that was still aimed at him. When Matio reached the door, he looked at Mara. "I go because you command it. I will not trouble you again."

  "I do not wish to ever see you again," she told him.

  His eyes became sad, and he disappeared out the door. Jake followed, his rifle still poised. Fearing he might shoot, Mara flew across the room and grabbed his arm.

  "Do not shoot. He will not trouble us again."

  Jake lowered the gun and looked at her strangely. "You were speaking to him in his tongue?"

  She stood on her tiptoes and peered over his shoulder, trying to see the Indian, but he had already disappeared. "I did not know I could speak in the language of the Indian. Oh Jake, what does it mean?"

  Jake closed the door, and shot the bolt. He then took Andrew from her and laid him in the cradle. Mara watched him as if she were in a daze. Taking her hand, Jake sat her down beside the fire.