The Bearwalker's Daughter

by Beth Trissel

  Jack stood Karin on unsteady legs, a supportive hand on her shoulder. Sarah rushed over and lent her gentle assistance. “Neeley and I will see to her. Supper’s on the table. Go and get some hot food into you.” She held him back for just a moment. “I’m right grateful to you, Jack, for keeping her from harm. She’s dear to me. To us all.”

  “And to me.”

  Karin followed with her eyes as Jack brushed past his disgruntled brother to where the two servant girls, Betty and Alice, waited with a meaty kettle of stew and bowl of spicy apple dumplings. Was she dear enough for him to make the sacrifices she sensed lay ahead? And what of the deeds that lay behind him?

  ****

  The screen woven of willow enclosed Karin on three sides with the hearty fire before her. Beyond the opaque divide, she heard the brothers at their meal and each other.

  “Karin wouldn’t have needed bringing home safely if you hadn’t hightailed off with her in the first place,” Joseph flung at Jack.

  “She wanted to see the old cabin. How was I to know we would come under attack from every creature in these woods?”

  “You have some kind of luck, Jack. We’re fortunate you didn’t return her in a pine box.”

  “I took care of her, didn’t I?”

  “What else did you do?” Joseph hurled back.

  Sarah darted nervous glances in their direction. “Oh dear. They will fight over you, lass.”

  “Never mind those two cockerels, we’ve the girl to tend to,” Neeley hushed her.

  Awkward didn’t begin to describe bathing with the men in the same room, even though they couldn’t actually see her. But Neeley was determined and Karin frozen to the bone. Neeley and Sarah fell to work and she soon found herself stripped of her sopping petticoats. Sarah unlaced her bodice and she tottered out of her clinging shift and into the gleaming tub.

  “Get that water over every bit of you,” Neeley urged. “Even your hair. You need its full power and we’ll wash that muck off you while we’re about it.”

  Sinking down into the scented bath, Karin hugged the heated liquid to her goose-pimpled flesh like a soothing blanket. Maybe now she’d stop shaking.

  “What’s this?” Sarah asked. “A silver bracelet?”

  In all the confusion and her near panic, Karin had forgotten the shining band that encircled her forearm, and its significance. “Oh that. Yes. Jack gave it to me,” she said, not offering further explanation.

  Sarah bent near to examine the jewelry. “Quite a marvelous gift. Has it any particular significance?”

  “Nothing—much.” Karin faltered under Neeley’s watchful eyes. Sarah seemed equally intrigued. “Only friendship,” she said, keeping her voice down.

  Jack snorted. He had the hearing of a sharp-eared hawk.

  A hopeless liar, Karin slid down under the water. The need for air forced her to emerge. One glance at the women revealed the skeptical expressions awaiting her.

  “What sort of friendship?” Sarah prodded.

  Neeley tipped another pitcher of steaming water over Karin’s head. “I should think that’s plain enough. The lass returned home in his arms, did she not?”

  Karin sputtered. “Because I couldn’t stand.”

  Sarah’s astonished gaze grew even wider and she blurted, “Are you betrothed to Jack?”

  “No—well, maybe. I was earlier today.”

  “Jack, you bastard! Stealing her from under my very nose the instant you two are off together!

  “Language, Joseph,” his mother chided.

  “Balls,” her irate son shot back. “Mister McNeal has us all well acquainted with rude speech.”

  Sarah sank onto astoolbeforethehearth. “Even so.”

  Neely wasn’t the least bit put off by these unexpected tidings or the rough talk. She rubbed her soapy potion through Karin’s wet hair. “Now, lass, are you or are you not betrothed to Jack McCray?”

  “I was, and then I learned he’s the worst sort of Tory.”

  “Is there a good sort?” Jack inquired from beyond the screen.

  “No,” Joseph growled.

  “Some Loyalists are better thought of than others.” Karin spit out the suds that slid into her mouth.

  “Shall we say I was allied with those, or are you bent on seeing me as the vilest of men?”

  “You said so yourself,” Karin tossed over the divide.

  “Hardly. I admit to fighting for the cause I believed the lesser of two evils. Given the choice, I should have told them all to go to perdition.”

  Neeley upturned another pitcher of hot water over Karin’s head. “War is naught but maiming and killing, my girl. ’Tis how the battle’s won.”

  “But Neeley, he was at Blue Licks.”

  Sarah covered her face with her hands.

  “The godless son of a—” Joseph began.

  “Stop right there,” Neeley silenced him. She fixed owl-like eyes on Karin, still blinking under the suds. “Choose now, Joseph or Jack. Which will you wed?”

  Karin couldn’t possibly choose Joseph and how could she swear herself to Jack given the black deeds he’d committed?

  “So that’s how it is, miss. Very well, I shall decide for you. Jack’s the man. You accepted his proposal.”

  “I didn’t propose,” Jack said off handedly, a hint of triumph in his tone.

  Sarah lifted her head and stared at Karin. “Then how is it you two are betrothed?”

  Karin slid back down under the water.

  ****

  An unimposing figure in her gray shawl and oversized cap, Neeley beckoned Jack and Karin to the hearth with a secretive air. What the old woman had to impart seemed of deep importance, at least to her. He would honor her request.

  “Come, both of you. Kneel down.” Her aged voice was whispery.

  The household had gone quiet. All were abed except him, Karin, and the insistent woman. Neeley had banished everyone else to their rooms and been very particular about having this time alone with the couple. The matriarch stood facing them and gestured for Karin to kneel before her on the floor.

  She sank to her knees, clothed in a white shift and stockings. Firelight glinted on the sheen in the black hair rippling over her. Jack’s heart quickened. He’d never seen a lovelier woman, and the sweetness of angelica wafted from her. As it did from him, come to think of it, but the fragrance seemed most fitting for an angel. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, bury his face in that resplendent mane and breathe in.

  “Now, Jack, kneel on her right.” Neeley regained his distracted attention.

  He did as she bid him, bare-chested save for his quartz necklace, wearing the buckskin breeches from his saddlebag that fitted him like a well-worn glove and the fresh stockings she’d supplied. Clean damp hair spread over his shoulders and his boots dried by the fireside along with his moccasins.

  Neeley’s stooped figure bent over them. “Never forget, the blood of the clans runs in you, lass. Our family goes back to the days of King Macbeth.”

  Karin glanced up, surprise in her face. “The wicked king in Shakespeare’s play?”

  Neeley gave a sage nod. “He was not so very wicked and you descend from his line.”

  A wrinkled hand resting on Jack’s shoulder, she said, “Your people reach back to Robert the Bruce, the great Scottish ruler.”

  Unprepared for her disclosure, he asked, “How do you know this?”

  She eyed him with unblinking regard. “I am the keeper of these truths. Soon all will have forgotten the old ways, their kith and kin. Hold fast to what I tell you. Both of you. Your blood is mingled with that of Vikings and ancient Celts.”

  Jack listened intently. Karin seemed to do the same.

  Neeley’s unwavering demeanor was that of one to whom authority had been given from on high. “A host of Scots braved the journey to the New World. ’Tis here in this raw land you will make your way amid the blood and tears that wash your path, as they do all people’s.”

  She paused, and then contin
ued. “Hear me well. What I bind between you this night shall stay bound, though dire forces would tear you apart. Once the vow is made, if either of you should cast the other off it will be at the risk of your very lives. Only together can you survive what awaits you.”

  Karin slid her widened stare from Neeley’s stern expression to Jack, her face an eloquent blend of longing and confusion, hurt and want. Doubtless, anger still smoldered in that meld of emotions, but she remained at his side. In that, he took hope.

  “Karin,” Neeley summoned. “Much of what’s to come is beyond your sight. Of this you may be sure, Jack McCray was sent to you, he who, even now, has taken hold of your heart.”

  A pink stain colored Karin’s cheeks. “Foolish vessel.”

  “Your heart knows a deeper wisdom.”

  “He has much to answer for, Neeley.”

  “As do many. Judge him not too harshly.”

  “But he has been my enemy. How can I love such a man?”

  “As your mother did before you.”

  Karin paled and shook her head. “No.”

  “Yes,” Neeley persisted.”

  “Jack said the same, but it cannot be.”

  “Yet, those were her final words, spoken for you.”

  An incredulous moment passed as Karin weighed her message. “For me?”

  “All these years Mary’s request has lain heavily on my soul. She bid me tell you of her love for you and Shequenor.”

  A chill seemed to travel Karin at his name. Cold warning gripped Jack’s insides.

  Neeley closed her eyes. When she opened them again they swam with tears. “You regard him as a devil, and well he may be now. But he could not always have been thus. Not if Mary loved him. She was the gentlest of souls. Forgive me for not passing this message on to you sooner, lass. I dared not defy the wishes of your grandfather.”

  “Why do so now?” Karin asked.

  “My days on this earth are like the last leaves clinging to the bough before winter winds sweep them away. I would see you with the right man before I pass on.”

  Karin’s eyes deepened to gray. “Do not speak so.”

  “’Tis the way of all creatures, child. I am content to go if you are well.”

  “I cannot lose you, Neeley. You have always been here to guide me.”

  “You will not be alone. You have the McNeals, and Jack possesses the strength and cunning to guide you. You must look to him.”

  Karin gazed into his face as if asking an unspoken question. Can I trust you?

  He hoped to God she could. Up until now, he’d thought of himself for the most part. Somehow, he must overcome his indomitable independence and make room for her in his life. Yes, Karin, he replied wordlessly, answering her in the same way she’d posed the question.

  Her fascinating gaze changed like clouds shadowing the earth, first the darkness of doubt then a gleam of hope, rays of sunshine breaking through. She swallowed and her heart pulsed at the side of her throat. Would she utter the pledge he suddenly badly wanted to hear or bolt from him like a wary doe?

  “Karin,” Neeley gently prompted. “I see your fear, also the yearning of your heart. The moment is precious and quickly passes into nothingness. Speak now, or never do so.”

  Hesitation crossed her eyes then the words escaped her halting lips. “I bind myself to you, Jack McCray.”

  Her tremulous vow stirred him as nothing before, and he smiled despite the solemnity of the occasion. He couldn’t help it. “I bind myself to you, Karin McNeal.”

  She shot him a look as if to say, ‘you had better.’

  Truly, trust was shaky ground. Jack couldn’t swear he loved her, nor had she asked, but he was as near to that tumultuous swell as he’d ever been. One thing was certain, he wanted Karin more than anything in this world.

  From the pocket hidden beneath her apron, Neeley drew out a bright scarf, the color of fire. The reddish orange fabric mirrored the flames crackling in the hearth. “Lift your right arm, Karin. Jack, lift up your left.”

  Karin did as Neeley directed and the sleeve slid back over her slim arm. The band of silver, his band, encircled it like a promise. She waited. Then he raised his left arm so that they upheld both side by side. How smooth she was, especially in comparison to his more weather-beaten skin. Her graceful beauty contrasted with his muscle and the scars etched from many battles.

  Neeley took the scarf and wound it lightly around their wrists, joining their arms together. Karin eyes were pools of uncertainty tinged with wonder. Her smooth skin lay invitingly against his. The mere touch of her sent a tingle charging through him. Tilting his hand, he entwined his fingers through her tentative clasp.

  Neeley laid her hands on their heads in blessing. “As God is my witness, you are betrothed. Be resolved and let no one break this bond. For they will try.”

  Jack had no doubt.

  ****

  Karin snuggled into her bedfellow’s fragile warmth. Neeley’s light snores proved she still lived, at least for now. Her grim prediction otherwise troubled Karin. Granted, Neeley was ancient, but she’d been that way forever and age hadn’t killed her yet.

  The chill night left Karin trembling with trepidation. Sound sleep evaded her. Whenever she dozed, the snapping jaws of wolves took shape in her mind as if they lunged at the door. She swore they snarled beneath the windows.

  Yet the house was still except for wood hissing in the hearth and the ever-present wind. In its wild song, she heard the hauntingly beautiful music of a woodland flute...the reedy melody called to her.

  But to what?

  Jack, she sighed, longing to be near him and just as strongly feeling the urge to push him away. The diverse emotions clashed in her like converging streams in a froth of whitewater. She’d pledged herself to him at Neeley’s insistence, and that unreasoning need within herself. She wasn’t at peace with her choice, but she would not and could not alter it.

  She envisioned him stretched out in the dark loft wrapped in his bedroll. He’d easily make do with the floor having known much worse. Joseph refused to share his room with the usurper and she couldn’t really blame him. She’d never meant to hurt Joseph and doubted Jack had either, but how could she be certain? As he’d pointed out, she didn’t really know him.

  Louder the wind shrieked and she tried to shut her ears to the strident voice. Behind his summons rose an angry bellow. A woman’s entreaty seemed interwoven with the plaintive wails, as if mediating with the enraged one.

  Was that her mother? Karin must be losing her mind. She felt as unraveled as a skein of wool and filled with longing.

  The gusts grew calmer, or maybe she just ceased to notice. The hypnotic strains of the flute beckoned again, soothing, lulling. In the music, she saw the darkness of a forest at midnight washed with the light of the great golden moon. Leaves swirled in the breeze like butterflies circling the trunks and long wisps of smoky clouds misted the trees.

  Someone waited there for her, deep in the woods where the snowy owl winged across the stars. He bid her to come. His summons was irresistible. Shequenor.

  Without full awareness of what she did, Karin slipped from the bed and tiptoed on the icy boards into the main room. Before her was the outline of the door...beyond that, the call.

  Chapter Ten

  Christ! Wolves! Closing in on Jack like hounds from Hell, their eyes burning, jowls slathering. What was wrong with these creatures? As before, he’d never known them to be this menacing unless they’d gone mad or were half-starved.

  They were fast cornering him. He’d better make a swift escape. Where had they all come from? More importantly, where was Peki? He darted his eyes at the snowy woods. Why was he here alone and on foot?

  No time to consider. Instinctively, he readied for the attack. Slicking his knife from the sheath with one hand, he grasped the worn handle of his tomahawk with the other. Old friends. Where had he left his musket? A loaded pistol would come in mighty handy about now.

  “Back!” He wa
ved the blade at the nearest form, a big wolf, possibly leader of the pack. By heaven, he’d open its hairy throat before it sank those fangs into his.

  The incensed animal sprang in a hissing blur of teeth and fur. The next thing Jack knew, it slammed into him with the force of a cannon ball. Air rushed from him. Winded by the impact, he tumbled onto his back in the cold whiteness.

  He wasn’t beaten yet. Drawing on skills honed by years in the frontier, he plunged the blade up deep between the creature’s ribs. The knife struck home.

  The ravenous beast slumped on him. Grunting under its weight, he shoved the animal off to one side and scrambled up. It lay slack-jawed in a heap at his feet. Blood ran over the pure snow.

  He pulled his crimson blade out of the inert predator. At a glance, he saw the wolf’s blood stained all down the front of his hunting shirt. This wasn’t over. Breathing hard, he readied for the next attack, surprised the pack hadn’t gone for him in one body.

  Knife in hand, he whirled around. Shifting his eyes from side to side, he yelled, “Come at me, you devils!”

  Nothing. Not a wolf in sight. Had he frightened off the entire pack by felling one? Unheard of.

  Jack jerked awake. Sucking in his breath, he lay in his bedroll staring up at the blackened beams overhead. Moonlight poured through the small window set in the logs above him and filtered down over the trunks and sacks stored in the loft.