New Frontier of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 2)

by Dorothy Wiley

  He also made clear the significance of the big knife and its handsome deer horn handle. He told them that he had just seen Sam about to leave looking mad enough to kill, but somehow Catherine managed to stop him.

  “I can understand how all this has dredged up the past for Sam. And that traitor in the jail deserves to die every bit as much as the one Sam hunted,” Stephen hissed, “even if he wasn’t the same man.”

  “Don’t worry, my guess is the turncoat doesn’t have much time left on this earth,” Judge Webb assured him.

  “If Sam gets anywhere near the man, he’ll have even less time,” Stephen said heatedly. “I’m amazed Catherine was able to stop him.”

  Bear wasn’t surprised, but didn’t say so. He realized how much Sam meant to Catherine, and how much she could mean to him if the Captain would just let her release his broken heart.

  “What little time Foley has should be spent facing his crimes,” William said. “We owe that to all the innocent people Foley has harmed or killed. Justice requires that. Only the law can rightly take a man’s life from him in punishment.”

  “True enough,” Judge Webb agreed, “but sometimes, especially on the frontier, the Almighty uses men to dispense His own form of justice. Justice is not limited to the confines of a courtroom.”

  Bear agreed wholeheartedly with the Judge.

  As they reached the edge of town, Constable Mitchell ran up to them, his pimpled complexion covered in sweat. The look of panic on his face told them everything they needed to know before the nervous constable blurted it out. “He’s gone. He’s gone. Bud took my pistol. Said he’d shoot me through the gut and skin me like a buffalo if I didn’t let his brother loose.”

  The Judge spat. “I should have known better than to leave that Satan’s bastard with one as green as you.”

  Bear saw Mitchell bite his lip and look down at the splatter in the dust and suspected the young man felt about that low. He sympathized with the young man. Constable Mitchell was lucky he was na killed. The Judge should be disgusted as much with himself as the constable. Handlin’ a prisoner like Foley was beyond this boy’s ability.

  “How long ago?” William asked the constable.

  “Thirty minutes, maybe longer. I’ve been looking for you Judge, to find out what to do.”

  “Which direction did they ride?” the Judge asked impatiently.

  Mitchell quickly pointed northwest, in the direction of the river.

  The men turned their horses, back toward the campsite, leaving a thick cloud of dust behind them to settle on the constable.

  “If Foley has harmed a member of my family, I will kill him,” Stephen shouted to the Judge as they rode. “I don’t give a damn what justice requires.”

  “If he has, you have my permission,” Judge Webb yelled back, “if I don’t shoot Foley first myself.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Catherine couldn’t believe the passion and then tenderness she had felt in Sam’s kisses. She expected that he would be stunningly virile, and awaken her as a woman, but the startling sensations he created within her were even more powerful than she had ever imagined. Now she understood for a certainty that an essential part had been missing from her first marriage.

  A strange inner elation filled her. Her heart had leapt at his touch. His embrace, filled with longing and possessiveness, left her glowing inside with joy and desire. She recalled the ecstasy she felt as he held her tightly against his hard body. She wanted to feel more of that. Much more.

  As she rode, her fingers ached to reach over and touch him. She guessed she was not the only one with that particular longing as she became aware of his unabashed assessment of her body. His broad shoulders and chest were almost heaving as he appraised her.

  With a giddy sense of amusement, she let her happiness show. She wanted him to find her desirable. As desirable as she found him.

  Just as they left, his keen, probing eyes had searched hers, looking for love. Looking for hope. At long last, she had succeeded in steering him away from his desire for vengeance, to a desire for her. At least for the moment. She had no illusions. His anger still simmered, just below the surface. He carefully controlled his wrath for now. But for how long? A man like the Captain didn’t just forget and walk away. And she couldn’t blame him. Traitors were murderers.

  How many men, women, and children fell to the British because of traitors like Frazier and Foley? She wanted to run a blade from heart to groin through Foley herself. The despicable man deserved nothing less.

  And she couldn’t expect Sam to love her until he could leave his old love behind. And she now understood that doing so was plainly linked to him finding justice for the young woman’s death.

  But the price of exacting vengeance would be high. Sam could not kill Foley without becoming a murderer himself. He might even lose his own life. The other buffalo hunters would come after Sam. Dread filled her heart.

  The thought of losing him in a battle with those buffalo hunters suddenly turned her hot blood icy. Her pulse quickened at the terrifying thought and she tried to suppress the knot hardening in her belly. She looked over at Sam to reassure herself. He was a magnificent warrior. He had fought many battles and survived them all. He had more courage than any man she had ever known. There was no water in his blood.

  And he was smart and shrewd. He wouldn’t do anything foolish. And his brothers and Bear would all stand by him.

  That loathsome man and his cohorts didn’t stand a chance.

  She studied Sam’s tanned rugged features, as he looked ahead now. It felt good riding beside him in the summer sun, miles and miles of waving grass ahead of them. Yet, a silent sadness lingered on his face. No, he definitely had not abandoned the idea of revenge. She saw it there again, warring with the feelings she was trying to help him feel. She could almost see the skirmish in his mind as his jaw muscles quivered and his lips tightened on his face.

  He could face any foe, but could he face love?

  She also sensed his vulnerability. He wanted to believe her, but he needed to trust her first. Only then could he set his heart free.

  He was so close. She could see it in the way he looked at her.

  More importantly, she saw how hard he was looking at himself. Sam had come out here hoping a new place would heal him, make him forget his tortuous memories. But instead, the wilderness was a mirror, forcing him to look inside himself, at the most unflattering parts.

  At first, he was reluctant to leave with Catherine, but he realized he needed to calm his rage. He’d always considered himself a smart man, and smart men didn’t allow their anger to cause them to make mistakes.

  If a second witness could not be found, he might have to go after Foley himself, but he would form a plan first.

  For now, he had to come to terms with how he truly felt about Catherine. About the love she offered.

  He wasn’t entirely sure he was doing the right thing. In fact, he was quite certain he wasn’t. He was taking them both into dangerous territory. Once he started kissing her again, there would be no going back. He had held his emotions and his body at bay far too long. He could almost feel love fighting its way out of his gristly heart.

  He found it hard to believe, but she wanted him. His mind burned with the hot memory of their kiss, a tantalizing taste of the passion that could erupt between them. But it came with a price tag—marriage. He wasn’t going to take advantage of her. He was a man of honor and she was a lady. He would not disrespect her by yielding to their mutual lust. If he took her now, it would be for life. He had to stay in control.

  He studied Catherine as they rode. She held her gelding with confidence and appeared remarkably elegant even on the back of a horse. Her dagger added to her striking appearance, giving her a look of quiet courage and strong mettle. She also looked extraordinarily sensuous. Her stays, which kept her back perfectly straight, had the added benefit of pushing her full bosom up to display soft mounds at the top of her gown. Her waist seemed impos
sibly small and her legs nearly as long as his. And her lovely face held a smile so dazzling it competed with the afternoon sun. He admired the perfection of her striking high cheekbones and strong jawline, but it was the strength of her character that impressed him most of all.

  “You’re staring Sam,” Catherine said.

  He nodded, managing a smile, but not trusting himself to speak. He turned his eyes to the path ahead.

  How could she possibly love him? She was too fine, too beautiful, and too perfect. And he was anything but those things. He was rough, worn, and far from perfect. He had spent most of his life out in the open and it showed. Although his parents raised him to be a gentleman, he never looked the part. Nor did he want to. That just wasn’t him.

  But, she said she loved him.

  Since the Revolution, his entire life had been a denial of love. It had been about deep-seated hatred and revenge. Could he let his feelings for her float to the top?

  “What are you thinking?” she asked, inclining her head and peering over at him.

  Sam hesitated, not wanting to reveal his thoughts just yet. He was still sorting them out.

  “You think this is too big a risk don’t you? You’re not convinced that I really could love you.” There was a gentle and compassionate tone in her voice.

  “That’s part of it,” he admitted.

  “What’s the rest of it?”

  He remained silent.

  “Sam, tell me. Don’t you find me desirable?” Catherine asked, sounding close to tears now.

  Sam could have laughed, but didn’t. He had been fighting to keep his desire from showing since they’d left camp. His lips longed for hers as he had never longed for anything else. He wanted to savor the taste of her mouth and let her essence swirl through him.

  A large majestic oak stood proudly in the center of the meadow. He motioned Catherine to follow and loped over to it, then dismounted and quickly tied Alex to a heavy branch that drooped nearly to the ground. Each of the tree’s four old branches pointed in different directions. It was an Indian Trail tree. Natives tied the branches with stakes forcing them to grow in each of the four directions as an aide in finding their way in the wilderness when darkness or clouds obscured the sun. Maybe the sacred tree would point his life in the right direction.

  As he helped Catherine down from her horse, her waist felt firm and stiff under her stays, and it flamed his growing desire even more. He felt as if his insides were on fire and his head was going to blow off his shoulders. How could he think clearly feeling like this? Heaven help him, he couldn’t.

  After tying her horse to another one of the oak’s branches, he took her face in his hands and lowered his lips to hers. Her kiss, hot as his blood, caused a shockwave that made his entire body shudder. It went far beyond the impact of their first kiss. Now, not only did his body experience it—his soul did as well—as though she kissed more than just his mouth. Her passion seemed to touch every part of him.

  He gathered her against his trembling body.

  He had never felt these overwhelming sensations before. He marveled at the intensity of feelings that could make the rest of the world disappear, as if nothing else mattered.

  The few times in his life that he had coupled with a woman had been quick and lukewarm at best, with little kissing and no affection. The empty experiences left him feeling only regrets and guilt. And a hope that someday making love with a woman would be just that—making love.

  Just from kissing her, he could tell that making love with her would be utterly different. Her lips and mouth seemed made for his, as they joined with his to form a perfect union. And the thought of joining with her made his imagination go wild. He only knew he was lost—lost to the swirling fiery chaos happening within his body.

  He wanted to go on kissing her forever to keep feeling as he did now, but his hands thought otherwise. They took over his will and began to move over her body. First, down her back and the curves of her bottom, to the top of her legs. Just touching her made his blood hot. He drew her close, feeling the softness of her breasts press up against his chest. Oh, how he longed to feel their warmth in his hands. He rubbed a single finger against the bare skin of her neck and shoulder.

  “Catherine, do you have any idea what you do to me?” he breathed.

  “Probably the same thing you do to me.”

  She ran her fingertips and nails across the opening at the top of his shirt. The sensations she drew from him with just that simple touch surprised him. It made him want to tear the new shirt off his back.

  “I’ve never felt like this.” His voice broke with uneven huskiness.

  “Neither have I,” she whispered into his neck. “Kiss me Sam, and never, ever stop.”

  He kissed her until she groaned from deep in her throat. When he deepened the kiss, her lips and body asked for more. And he wanted to comply. They were both trembling with desire.

  Then she nearly pleaded, “Sam, I want you, all of you,” her voice fierce, yet sensual.

  “I need to find us a safe shelter.” If he was going to make love to her, he would take his time—savor every moment exploring her exquisite body. “We can’t. Not here, not now, out here in the middle of an open pas….ture.” His breath caught as she started untying his leather breeches.

  “Indeed we can,” she said, her voice sensuous and insistent as she rubbed her soft fingers across his abdomen. “The grass is tall, and soft.”

  “I wish we were a thousand miles from anywhere.”

  The tight muscles of his stomach tightened even further. In fact, his whole body was growing rigid with desire. He could not believe this well-bred lady was willing to love him out here in the middle of a pasture. But her feelings had nothing to do with reason. She was entirely caught up in her own desire.

  He couldn’t deny the excitement at the prospect of loving her right here, but his warrior instincts kept springing to life. “It isn’t…safe, we’re out in the open,” he struggled to say.

  Could he let down his guard long enough to enjoy their coupling? Could he stop thinking for once long enough to just feel?

  Then she touched him again, lower, and he decided he could. He definitely could let down his guard. Right here. Right now.

  His hand enveloped the back of her head and he brought her lips to his. This time his kiss was deep, exploring, and even more fervent. If it was possible for a kiss to be claim someone, this one did. He wanted to make her his, so he could go on kissing her like this for the rest of his life.

  Then, a dark corner of his mind leapt up, warning him to stop.

  If he didn’t stop now, he was committed. Committed to her for life. Would she grow tired of the wilderness and want to return to all that Boston offered? Worse, what if something happened to her too? His heart did a back flip.

  He quickly stepped away, trying to get the blood flowing into his head again. He needed to think. Looking down, he ran the fingers of both hands through his hair.

  “What?” Catherine asked. “Please, I want you to go on. I know it wouldn’t be proper. But I don’t care anymore. You said we have to make our own rules here in the west. What’s important is that I love you Sam. That’s my destiny. If you stop now, it will kill me, I’m sure.”

  “That’s what has me worried,” he confessed, his voice cracking. “Something or someone killing you.” Unable to stand the look of anguished disappointment on her face, he turned his back to her. He took a few steps away. “I’ve had too many people I loved taken away. I couldn’t stand it if you were too.”

  Then she took a step toward him. “Sam, even if we have only one day on this earth together, I will love you forever.”

  He spun around, suddenly sure he wanted her back in his arms. “There’s something important I want to say. Catherine, I….”

  Before he could finish, he stared in stunned disbelief. Then in horror, as she collapsed to the ground.

  CHAPTER 28

  Stephen’s big stallion was the first to
thunder into their camp. He quickly glanced around but the only sounds of commotion came from the children playing, and William, Bear, and the Judge riding in behind him.

  “What’s going on?” John yelled to him.

  “Is everything all right?” Jane asked, concerned.

  “Frank Foley has escaped. His brother broke him out of jail,” Stephen said. “They came this direction. We thought he came here.”

  “They must have skirted around our camp so they could make a clean getaway,” William suggested.

  “We saw no sign of them,” John said, loading his pistol. His rifle carelessly leaned against a nearby wagon wheel.

  “We’re all fine, but Catherine and Sam are still gone,” Jane said, sounding worried.

  “John, stand guard while we circle the area,” Stephen ordered. “And load that rifle too.”

  The horseback men split into two groups, Bear with Stephen, and William with Judge Webb. They rode in opposite directions searching the area about a hundred yards out from the perimeter of the camp.

  Stephen found the three children playing hide-and-go-seek with Kelly in a tiny clearing on the other side of camp. He heard Kelly call out, “Ollie, Ollie oxen free,” signaling that she had caught one of the children and the others were all free to come out. He remembered playing the game with his brothers as a youngster, but was too worried to enjoy the memory. He rode up and instructed her to hurry them over to the center of their camp and put the children in Jane’s wagon.

  By the time he and Bear returned, William and the Judge were waiting for them. None of the men spotted anything of concern. Now they just had to locate Catherine and Sam.

  “I’ll find them,” Stephen told the other men. “Sam needs to know Foley’s out there somewhere. The rest of you stay here with the women and children. Frank and Bud probably went to meet up with their men and then they may come back here.”