Flabbergasted, she glanced back and forth between Jane and Kelly, turned abruptly and marched away, her fists clenched at her sides.
Shock ripped through her. She couldn’t believe Kelly figured it out. How did the young woman know when she didn’t even understand what she felt herself? What business was it of Kelly’s or Jane’s anyway? She didn’t want to think about this and they were forcing her to do just that. Her decision was made and she wasn’t going to change her mind.
Then her heart beat faster as thoughts of Sam sprung into her head, wrapping around her like a warm blanket on a cold day. She pictured his rare smile and heard his deep kind voice in her head. She had no idea a voice could even be sensuous. But his definitely was. Resonant and rich, the sound of it stirred something within her the very first time she heard it. Perhaps it was the quiet strength she perceived in the tone of it. His voice was both gentle and strong at once. Much like he was.
Why was she so strangely drawn to the man? She shared nothing in common with him. If Jane is right, she could never hope to marry a man like the Captain Wyllie. She had promised herself that she would only marry for love. And Sam showed no indication that she even appealed to him. He’d only been cold and standoffish.
Maybe he sensed something from her and it scared him away. Perhaps he’s just incapable of love for some reason. Jane’s right, he’ll never want a wife.
She kept walking toward the river, debating with herself.
Maybe he didn’t even find her appealing. Did he think her a pampered gentlewoman—too genteel, too much a lady? Well, she was learning more each day about how to take care of herself in the wilderness. It wasn’t her fault she’d grown up coddled and indulged. She was who she was and proud of it. If he wasn’t willing to look beneath the superficial part of her, then that was his loss.
Besides, it’s too soon to even be thinking about another man or marrying again. But she was. She couldn’t help it. She just couldn’t. She did feel something for Sam, but was it enough to risk staying here? “Oh Lord, what do you want me to do?” she asked, looking skyward.
She listened to the gurgle and rush of the river. Her emotions seemed to be rushing through her as swiftly as the river’s current. At least the river knew which way to flow. She didn’t know whether to go forward in Kentucky or backward to Boston. She peered down at the mud on the riverbank, feeling like she was stuck in it.
Kelly walked up behind her. “Catherine, please forgive me if I misspoke. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Kelly, what made you say that?”
Kelly gracefully stooped down to pick a red wildflower before she answered. “The way you look at him when he’s not looking. The way he looks at you when he thinks no one else is noticing. I look at William the same way when he’s not looking at me. It’s a look of admiration, of wanting—a look of hope. A hope that someday I’ll have the courage to look at him when he is looking at me. A hope that he’ll look back at me, feeling the same way I do.”
Dumbfounded, Catherine didn’t know what to say. She had to admit everything Kelly said made sense. “You’re very wise for such a young lady.”
“And you’re very foolish for such a smart woman.”
She had to laugh. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I think two men may be in love with you.”
Catherine felt her eyes widen, shocked by Kelly’s presumptuous and brash statement. “In love? Two? Oh good heavens, you can’t mean it.”
“Bear looks at you almost the same way.”
“What do you mean ‘almost’?”
“Bear, who is a fine man I’m sure, sees the outside of you—sees your considerable beauty and your charm. You have captured Bear’s mind. However, the Captain’s heart sees the inside of you. He admires who you are—your spirit—and the strength he senses beneath your beauty.”
Had she been wrong about Sam seeing only the superficial part of her?
Her head bowed, Kelly paused, thinking for a moment. Finally she said, “The Captain’s heart wants you but his mind is still fighting it for some reason.”
“What reason?”
“I don’t know—something hidden deep within him. Whatever it is, it’s important.”
Everything Kelly told her rang true to Catherine. “Kelly, you are remarkable. How did someone your age gain such insight into people, especially since you lived in the woods, alone for the most part?”
“My Ma was the same way. Ever since I was little, we’d talk for hours and hours about different characters in books and the stories in the Bible and about her relatives and people she had known. Ma taught me how to observe people by studying our animals. She showed me how little things they do will tell you a lot about how they’re feeling. Like when a horse pins back his ears, you know it’s time to watch out. He’s mad and likely to kick. She said observing and figuring out people is the same—a gift—the gift of understanding what people are going to do and why. For some reason, she wanted me to be able to do that too. So even after she died, I kept on observing my animals and sometimes my Pa. I could almost always tell when he was going to beat me. When that looked likely, I’d take a long walk in the woods.”
Her heart ached for what the young woman must have endured. “Kelly, you amaze me. You’ve led such a difficult life, yet you are so astute and clever.”
“There is one thing I can’t figure.”
“What’s that?”
“Why you wouldn’t sell me that handsome gelding that belonged to your late husband. I can give you a partial payment now and more later after I find a job in town.”
“That horse was my engagement gift to my late husband. He also gave me my horse as a wedding gift. Even though I didn’t love him, I readily admit that, I did care for him. He was more like a friend. He tried to be a good husband. He just didn’t know how. I don’t have much left of our time together, other than our horses. But now that I’ve decided to leave, I’m ready to part with it.”
“I suspect you will change your mind about leaving. We’d best get back before Jane starts those biscuits and I miss out on my lesson.”
“Yes, I think I need that lesson too. I’ve never made biscuits myself. We employed cooks in Boston. But before we go back, for some time Jane and I have both wanted to tell you something. And I think now may be the right time.”
Kelly looked at her in surprise.
She took a quick intake of breath and hoped she would find the right words. “William and Stephen killed those two men because they were murderers and because they caught them in the act of raping you. What you experienced with that evil man is nothing at all like what happens between a husband and his wife. A man that respects you will be gentle and a man that loves you will make it something you want—even look forward to. What that man did was violent and hurtful. You must remember that it will be completely different when you marry and to not be afraid of your husband. My mother taught me that the act of coupling between two people in love is always gentle, never violent. Jane could explain this even better than I because Stephen worships her.”
She thought about her own experiences as a married woman. It was all she could do to tolerate having her husband in her bed. Although he was gentle, their coupling left a lot to be desired. In fact, there was no desire. No passion. No love. It was quick, predictably bland, often uncomfortable, and always unsatisfying. Her husband tried, sometimes, but cold and aloof by nature, he had no idea how to spark her fire or how to please her. Never again.
Catherine watched as Kelly studied the red wildflower nestled in her palm. “I still dream about them. I feel them attacking me over and over. I feel their hands touching my breasts. It was the first time any man ever touched me. In my dream, I keep trying to scream. But no sound comes out and so no one comes to help me,” Kelly said, her eyes glistening.
“But someone did come. William and Stephen stopped them.”
“I know. Yet, in my mind, the ghosts of those men are still there. They won’t
ever go away. They will always be in my head, haunting me. Hurting me.”
“They will go away. You can make them.”
“No they won’t,” Kelly nearly shouted, her repressed anger and stored up tears both clearly surfacing. “I tried to make them go away, but they won’t. They won’t,” she wailed.
“Let God have them,” Catherine said. “His peace can take them away forever.”
“He can’t take away what they did to me,” Kelly cried. “William thinks the same thing. He’ll hardly look at me.”
“William is trying to let you heal. Our bodies heal a lot faster than our minds. William knows you just need to be left alone awhile. He’s a smart man. He will know when you have left this behind you. What happened to you was indeed horrible, but you must put it in your past, not your present. You’re strong. You can overcome this.”
“No man will ever want me after I’ve been deflowered. I’m ruined.”
“Oh, you are so wrong. No good and decent man would ever blame you for what happened. Young men will be standing in line for a chance to even hold your hand.”
“Truly?”
She saw desperation in Kelly’s eyes. The girl wanted to believe what she was telling her.
“Moreover, you are one of the brightest and loveliest young women I have ever known.” She genuinely believed Kelly was. The girl’s perfectly straight flaxen hair hung to her slim waist. Her large bright blue eyes lit up a sweet face. Catherine knew Kelly would mature into a beautiful woman someday. “You’d look like a rose among weeds compared to most of those young socialites in Boston.”
Kelly’s anger seemed to be subsiding. “Really?”
“Indeed. And believe me, William has noticed. He’s just being smart, biding his time until you are ready. Wait till I get you in some fashionable pretty attire and we use a few other tricks you don’t even know about yet.”
“Like what?” Kelly sniffled, but the tears had stopped.
“You’ll see,” she said mysteriously and then gave Kelly a hug around the waist as they started back. She had the means to help Kelly and decided it would give her great pleasure to do so. She vowed to herself to buy the young woman proper undergarments, including stays, and a few gowns in colors that would flatter her. Then she would teach the young lady how to style her hair and few other secrets.
“I’ll remember everything you said,” Kelly said, looking at the flower in her hand again. “I’ll keep this in my Bible to help me remember.”
And, to help her forget, Catherine hoped.
She studied her young companion. Did Kelly really have her mother’s ‘gift’? Was what the young woman said about Sam true? She felt her heart swell with hope. There was no use denying it any longer. She could love Sam, if he would let her. He was a man she could respect. Staying would mean risking her reputation in Boston society and her father’s wrath. But Sam was worth the gamble. She would stay, she decided, for now.
And, for now, a chance for love would be her dream.
She would wait until Sam saw that chance too.
CHAPTER 7
The next morning, against the darkest grey of early dawn, John handed Bear a steaming cup. “Here, I made it strong enough to wake a hibernating bear.”
Bear chuckled, taking the cup. “Good. I know I’ve been accused of soundin’ much like one, with my snorin’. Much obliged John. I’ll be needin’ more than a wee bit of that coffee. I feel like I slept with a wet blanket there’s so much dew this morn.”
“Your snoring woke me up a time or two, or three, or…”
“No need to keep countin’. Once ye get yourself a house built, ye’ll be sleeping better. Ye’ve been risin’ earlier than normal. Tell me what’s botherin’ ye. Ye do na seem your normal self.”
Their voices immediately woke Sam, but he couldn’t make himself sit up. He closed his eyes trying to grab a few more minutes sleep after being on guard duty a good part of the night, but the smell of the coffee called to him. Then he heard John continue.
“The day we reached Boonesborough was Diana’s birthday. I still miss her. Leaving her behind has only made me miss her even more, not less. I can’t help but think that I’ve deserted her. I know it’s not logical, since she’s been dead these few years. Even so, it still causes me grief and most of all guilt. I went to see her grave just before we left. I keep hearing what I said to her over and over in my head.”
“Aye, Diana was a lovely woman and we all miss her. But life goes on John. She would want ye to find a new life. I know she would want ye and your wee son to be happy.”
“But I still love her. And as long as I do, I could never remarry. I realize now, I don’t want a new life. I want my old one back.”
“We do na honor the dead by lettin’ them make us miserable,” Bear said.
His mind seizing Bear’s astute comment, Sam instantly came back to wakefulness. “But sometimes we let them,” he said, getting up from his bedroll and joining them.
He could empathize with John’s feelings. He felt much the same. He raked his fingers through his hair and, after pouring some coffee, studied the dancing flames, already turning some of the dry wood to glowing embers. What would it take to warm his own heart again?
The three men stood quietly for a few moments sipping from their pewter cups.
John and Bear were probably wondering who it was he had just referred to, but they knew better than to ask. If he wanted them to know, he would tell them. Parts of his life were off limits, even to his brothers.
Bear cleared his throat and then said in a low voice, “I need to tell you some news. I did na want to say anything about it last night in front of the women and wee ones. Sam, while ye and Stephen were huntin’ yesterday, I met a trapper who wandered by. He said somethin’ has stirred the Cherokee up again. They attacked a flatboat loaded with settlers on the Cumberland River. The same flatboat we used to cross into Kentucky on our way here. They murdered all but ‘one, even the women and wee ones. They kept one man to torture—the poor soul. Burned him alive.”
John gasped and his face paled in horror.
Sam remained unruffled, having seen similar scenes himself, but his warrior instinct kicked in. He quickly surveyed the area around them. Stephen was on guard duty now and was still circling the campsite.
“They tortured the man to see if he would show signs of weakness—beg for mercy or scream in fear,” Bear explained for John’s benefit. “His body was still smolderin’ when they found him.”
John shuddered at the gruesome description.
“The Kentucky and Ohio militia are pursuin’ the Cherokee to the south,” Bear explained.
Keeping his voice low, Sam said, “I’m surprised it was the Cherokee. Maybe the hunter had it wrong. The Shawnee are the most hostile tribe in the region. Most of the violent destruction of Kentucky settlements has been their work.”
“Are there any Shawnee near here?” John asked Sam.
“They live to the north, but Kentucky is their favorite hunting ground.”
“We best be prepared,” Bear said.
“Agreed. We’ll double our watch at night and keep the women and children close. We must be certain we’re not in a position to be ambushed,” Sam told them, “by natives or malicious white men.”
Bear turned to John. “Aye, the Shawnee are vicious. They mutilate their captives to ensure they will na come back in the next life as warriors. They’ll smash teeth in, cut off fingers, break leg bones, gouge out eyes…”
“Enough,” John nearly yelled. “I’ve heard enough.”
“Keep your voice down,” Sam admonished, “you’ll wake the others. Bear just wants you to realize what we’re dealing with John. You need to know what we might be up against, if not now, then maybe later. Hostile tribes can only be punished for poor behavior, not bribed or reasoned with.”
“We’re up against ignorant savages, that’s what,” Bear said. “They do na think the white man was created by their ‘Master of Life—the
Great Creator.’ They think of us as less than human—like some sort of animal.”
“Sounds much like what you said about native Indians a few campfires back,” John pointed out.
“That’s different,” Bear said, sounding annoyed.
“How so?” John asked, his eyes and his voice challenging Bear.
Bear pulled back his massive shoulders. “How can you defend these savages, man? If ye’d seen that flatboat and what they did to those poor wee ones, ye’d be wantin’ to use your powder on every bloody savage hiding in these woods. D’ye realize how close we came to that being us?”
“I’m not defending them. I’m just trying to understand them,” John protested.
Bear snorted. “I do na need to ‘understand’ them. Nay, I want them to leave us the bloody hell alone.”
“But if you understand them, you can reason with them,” John said.
Sam blew out his breath in frustration. It was too early for this conversation and he was losing his patience. “This is the wilderness, not a university,” he told John. “I know that is hard for an educated man like you to accept, but reason is a weak defense. If you’re being attacked, it’s a poor time to try to ‘understand’ them.”
Bear nodded vigorously in agreement. “Aye, a scalp comes off an educated man as quick as it does a dumb bastard.”
“If white men used more reason than powder, they’d be able….” John started to argue.
Sam cut him off, tired of being caught in the crossfire. “What you both need to realize is that every tribe is different. You can’t throw them all in the same sack. Some are savage animals, so brutal it’s hard for white men to even imagine what they are capable of. Other tribes are peaceful hunters, fisherman and traders—far more peaceful than many white men I’ve known. Don’t make the mistake of thinking of them all the same way. On one side of a mountain, you might find friendly, even helpful, natives. But on the other side, they can be hostile beyond belief. And by offering bounties for settler’s scalps, the bloody Red Coats induced some of these natives to become our enemies, while other natives continue to fight with us against the British. My advice is to keep your eyes and your ears open, respect and be cautious of all men, and leave these debates to preachers and politicians.”
New Frontier of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 2) Page 6
