LeClerc 03 - Wild Savage Heart

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LeClerc 03 - Wild Savage Heart Page 5

by Pamela K Forrest


  “Liking me isn’t a necessary part of survival. Knowing how to handle a given situation at a given time, however, is.” Hawk folded his arms across his chest in a position Molly silently labeled his “tolerant Indian” stance. She was already beginning to hate it.

  “You’re moving to a part of the country you’ve never seen before. You will be faced with decisions that you’ve had no experience with and you must be prepared to handle anything that comes along. Adam won’t always be there at your side. You’ll spend a lot of time alone in your cabin — your nearest neighbor will be several miles away. Isn’t it better to learn now, while someone is available to teach you, than to have to learn later when it might be too late?”

  Molly sighed and nodded in agreement. “Everything you say is true, Mr. Hawk, which makes it damnably harder to accept.”

  Hawk’s stern face gave no hint of the smile he felt lurking just beneath the surface. She had spirit and a sense of justice. She would make Adam an admirable wife. And for the first time in his life, Hawk was envious of a friend.

  “Hate me if you must, Mrs. Royse,” he said quietly, “but learn everything I can teach you. Perhaps your anger at me will make some of the lessons easier to accept. You can pretend it is my head you are separating from my body the next time you prepare a rabbit for the stew pot.”

  “What a delightful thought,” she agreed soberly. “I may never object to skinning a rabbit again.”

  “It appears that I would do better not to supply you with more rabbits. Maybe some fish or a wild turkey would make a nice change.”

  “It’s a shame your mother didn’t drown you when you were born,” Molly muttered to herself as she moved past him.

  Hawk let her take several steps before he replied. “My mother died before my birth, but you are free to complain to either of my stepmothers should you ever meet them. I’m sure they’ll both agree with you that I am not always easy to get along with.”

  Blushing with embarrassment that he had overheard her, Molly slowly returned to camp. She sighed, knowing this would not be her last encounter with him.

  It was only much later, after dinner had been eaten and they had settled down for the night, that his words returned to her and she wondered how his mother could have died before his birth. Surely he meant at his birth, not before. It would be many months before she had the nerve to ask him to explain.

  As Molly set out the lunch several days later she listened as Hawk patiently explained to Adam how to identify different trees by their bark. He called it “reading” a tree.

  “Why learn the difference in the bark when I can always look up and tell what kind of tree it is by its leaves?” Adam asked.

  “Winter,” was Hawk’s one word reply.

  Feeling slightly foolish that he hadn’t remembered that trees lose their leaves, Adam grinned and nodded in agreement. “Birch makes good bowls and spoons,” Hawk continued the lesson. “Your best fence posts come from chestnut, it last forever because it doesn’t rot. Use hickory for axe handles, wheel spokes, things that take a lot of stress. The bark can be split for chair bottoms and while you’re working you can chew on it. Tastes pretty good in a dry mouth. When you burn it save the ashes, they make the best lye for soap.

  “Use maple for furniture. We’ll try to find enough good-sized poplar to make your cabin. We’ll skin bark off of some elm branches and make waterpipe so that Molly doesn’t have to walk to the river for water. Look for —”

  “Whoa!” Adam held his hands up and grinned. “I appreciate the lesson, Hawk, but I’m never going to remember all of that.”

  “It takes time, but you’ll learn.”

  Molly realized that now both she and Adam accepted Hawk’s way of teaching. She was relieved to notice that the rift in the friendship between the two men was slowly healing. She didn’t want to be the cause for a friendship of long standing to be destroyed.

  “How would you like to ride a horse for a while this afternoon?” Adam asked later. He rested against the wheel of the wagon, watching her graceful movements as she cleaned up from their noon meal.

  “With you?” she asked dubiously.

  “Of course with me, sweetheart,” Adam replied with a chuckle. “Hawk’ll drive the wagon and I’ll ride his horse. I’ll saddle mine and you can ride it.” Adam’s horse remained tied to the tailgate of the wagon most of the time, since he usually drove the team. Molly was delighted at the idea of freedom from the wagon.

  She hurriedly finished her chore while Adam saddled his horse. She saw the two men in serious discussion but ignored them. She was determined to let nothing, including an argument between Adam and Hawk, disturb her day.

  Tying the bonnet ribbons firmly beneath her chin, Molly walked to the back of the wagon. She saw instantly what must have been the cause of the latest confrontation.

  “Adam, that’s not my saddle,” she pointed out calmly.

  “I know, sweetheart, but Hawk feels a sidesaddle would be too dangerous in the wilderness.”

  “I wonder if he’ll consider a broken neck dangerous when I fall off because of that saddle,” she mumbled to herself as she eyed it.

  “I’ve never ridden astride and I don’t believe this dress will allow for it,” she said to the waiting men as she tried to hide her disappointment. “Perhaps we can have our ride another time.”

  “Riding astride gives you more grip and better control over your mount,” Hawk said as he walked up beside her. Grabbing the sides of her waist he easily lifted her onto the saddle. He adjusted the stirrups to the correct length while ignoring her attempts to protect her modesty as she pulled down her bunched skirt.

  Adam’s lips thinned into a tight line as he fought not to comment on Hawk’s rough handling of Molly. He handed the reins to her and mounted his borrowed horse. He had seen her ride once at a park in Charleston and knew that she was an able horsewoman. However, that had been on a sidesaddle.

  Hawk watched her intently for several minutes as she accustomed herself to the saddle. After sliding from side to side several times she seemed to get the hang of it and managed to control herself and her horse. Nodding with satisfaction he turned to Adam.

  “The trail forks about a mile ahead, take the right fork. There’s a good stopping place beside the river, you can’t miss it because it’s just after the waterfall. I’ll meet you there this evening.” At Adam’s nod he turned and climbed onto the wagon seat.

  Molly rode at a sedate pace until the wagon was out of sight behind them. Once she knew she was away from Hawk’s penetrating gaze she grabbed the reins firmly and urged the horse into a gallop. She quickly discovered the advantages of the saddle as the horse twisted and turned through the trail.

  Adam stayed just behind Molly, making no effort to stop her or slow her down. Unequal to the force of the wind in her face, the flimsy bonnet blew off her head and tumbled to the ground. At first Adam wondered what Hawk would think when he drove past it, then he realized that his Indian friend would easily read the signs on the trail and think that they had raced the horses recklessly down the path.

  But if Hawk could see Molly now he would know that she was far from reckless — in fact, she was in complete control. Watching as her hair tumbled from its pins and streamed behind her, Adam knew that he was in more danger than she. She rode her mount with the grace of a natural-born horsewoman. Adam found himself falling further and further behind as she raced the wind for freedom.

  Realizing the danger of being separated from Adam, Molly slowed her horse to a more leisurely pace until he was again at her side. She smiled warmly at him and talked cheerfully as they followed the winding trail through the mountains.

  Molly had been raised in the flatlands of the coast, and the views offered by the mountains never ceased to delight her. The huge granite mountain peaks glistened as they disappeared into the clouds. Unexpected views of verdant valleys far below took her breath as she caught glimpses of the winding rivers sparkling diamond bright in the sun
.

  The mountains were alive with life. Small animals scurried from their path as birds flew overhead, scolding the human intruders. From a distance that made her feel safe, Molly watched delightedly as a black bear and her cub wandered the woods. It was amusing to watch their waddling, rolling gait, but she knew that the humor would quickly disappear if the female decided they were encroaching on her territory. Death would come quickly to anyone or anything challenging the fury of her heavily muscled body.

  By midafternoon they found the waterfall… and heaven on earth.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Molly was spellbound, willingly caught by the unsurpassed beauty of her surroundings. Of the many glorious things she had seen thus far on the trip west nothing could compare to this opulence of nature.

  “Oh, Adam,” she whispered reverently as he helped her to dismount.

  “I know,” he replied, hugging her tightly to him. “It defies description.”

  “God must have spent centuries designing this place. Everything is just perfect.”

  Hand in hand, they walked to the edge of the river. Each direction offered its own addition to the total beauty. Slightly upriver a waterfall tumbled hundreds of feet down the sheer side of the mountain to the rushing stream below. Innumerable rainbows began and ended in its delicate mists as the sun caught the tiny droplets and created a dazzling display of diamond bright beads. Its thundering roar mocked the softer sounds of the forest, forcibly reminding the viewer that there was nothing gentle in its compelling energy.

  Giant weeping willows, their flowing branches trailing captivatingly, leaned gracefully toward the gentler current near the place where Molly and Adam stood. Water cascaded around boulders the size of houses then flowed into ponds of cobalt blue and turquoise green.

  Huge trout, their rainbow colors glistening in the sun, jumped from beneath the dark surface. On the far side of the river a doe and her spotted fawn lowered their heads and drank from the cool water, the doe constantly alert to the dangers awaiting her offspring.

  Birds flew from tree to tree, singing and chattering their cheerful songs while the wind whispered through the leaves in a language unknown and yet familiar.

  Molly sat down on a convenient boulder and began unlacing her shoes.

  “What are you doing, Molly mine?” Adam asked softly.

  “I want to walk to that big boulder over there, sit down and dangle my feet in the water.” She pointed to a large rock nearly in the middle of the stream that was easily accessible.

  Leaving her shoes where they landed, Molly stood and raised her skirt. She missed Adam’s smile of delight when she modestly turned her back to him to remove her stockings.

  “Watch out for snakes!” Adam advised as he watched her gracefully move from rock to rock as she headed toward her goal. Chuckling at the look of disgust she threw his way, he quickly removed his own boots and socks and followed her path. By the time he reached her, Molly was sitting on the very edge of the boulder, her skirt raised to her knees and her feet dangling in the water.

  “You didn’t have to remind me of snakes,” she mumbled as he sat down beside her.

  “Even the Garden of Eden had its serpent,” he reminded her.

  “It’s so beautiful here,” she sighed, “I can’t imagine that Eden had anything on this place. You even have the right name.”

  “Will you be my Eve?” he asked as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her snugly against his side.

  With a gentle hand beneath her chin, Adam raised Molly’s face to his. He lowered his head, lightly nibbling on her mouth until her lips parted. At her invitation, he deepened the kiss, tasting her, devouring her, loving her.

  “I don’t believe that Eve wore so many clothes.” He began to unbutton the back of her dress while teasing her with his mouth.

  Anticipation rippled through her as her trembling fingers worked his shirt buttons free. “I know the other Adam never wore a shirt.”

  As he lowered her dress to her waist, Molly opened his shirt and ran her fingers through the wiry hair on his chest, gently tugging, then soothing the hurt. Adam removed his shirt and laid it behind Molly on the rough rock. He eased her down upon it as he freed the ribbons of her chemise.

  Molly closed her eyes and absorbed the feelings Adam created with his touch. She felt the unfamiliar caress of the sunlight on her naked breasts when he pulled the sides of the chemise apart. His warm lips touched the sensitive peaks but moved quickly away when she arched her back for more.

  “Not yet, Molly mine.” Abruptly, Adam stood and pulled Molly to her feet. He led her from the rock to the soft spring grass growing beneath the willow trees.

  His breath caught at the look of love filling her gentle eyes. Adam quickly removed the remainder of his clothes and then hers before they sank together onto the cool grass.

  “Now, sweetheart,” he whispered, his mouth teasing the tender skin where her neck joined her shoulders. “I’m going to love you as I’ve never loved you before. With the sun as our candle and the breeze our blanket, I’m going to make you mine for eternity.”

  The afternoon was peaceful, a day made for drifting on a daydream. The clumping of the oxen’s hooves and the rattling of the wagon wheels on the trail were hypnotically repetitious. A slight breeze rustled through the new leaves on the trees, reminding Hawk of the sound of a lady’s petticoat as it slid down her thighs.

  Shaking his head, Hawk wondered why he would associate the sound of leaves with something as sensual as a petticoat. It wasn’t normal for him to be so inattentive while in the wilderness. He had seen no one since Molly and Adam had left but he knew it was dangerous to become distracted when things were quiet. From his experience he knew something usually happened when things were at their quietest.

  The scent of spring flowers drifted around him and he thought of a lady’s fragrance as he nuzzled against the soft skin of her neck. With the picture filling his mind, Hawk rubbed the back of his neck as a sense of anticipation wove its way through him.

  He slowly became aware that his breathing was more labored and his muscles were tightening with tension. His hands were clenched fists around the reins as his eyes began to scan the area looking for a reason that would explain his odd frame of mind.

  Spying something lying on the side of the trail, Hawk pulled the team to a halt. He tied the reins around the hand brake, grateful for a reason to climb down from the wagon. Trying to relieve some of the building tension, Hawk stretched, feeling his muscles bunch and relax at his command. Instead of releasing the tension it seemed to accelerate until his entire body was drawn as tight as a bowstring.

  Ever alert for danger, in fact hoping for something to happen to alleviate his growing uneasiness, Hawk walked over to the thing lying in the trail. He recognized it immediately as the bonnet Molly had been wearing earlier.

  His knowledgeable gaze traveled the trail, easily reading the signs. The distance separating the hoof marks and the depths of those marks told him the story. Concerned at first that Molly’s horse might have gotten out of her control, he carefully studied the trail. Unconsciously sighing with relief, Hawk realized that everything he saw pointed out that Molly had been in full control of her horse.

  Hawk bent and picked up the bonnet, intending to return it to its wayward owner later, but as his fingers closed on the stiff fabric the tension that had plagued him pounded through him. Sweat poured down his brow to drip from his clenched jaw. His breathing was a labored sound hissing through his tightly clamped teeth while his whole body shook from the force of the tension.

  Suddenly, without warning, as Hawk fought for control of his own body, the tension receded. Left with a strange feeling of euphoria, Hawk forced his trembling legs to carry him back to the wagon. He leaned against a wheel, head bowed and eyes closed, while he waited for his breathing to return to normal.

  Finally, as the sensation ebbed, Hawk raised his head and looked around, almost surprised to discover that everythi
ng was normal. Except for him. Right then he would gladly have given ten years of his life to have been able to tell the shaman of his father’s people of this. Perhaps the old man’s wisdom could explain what had happened.

  Hawk climbed back onto the wagon, noticing that his quivering legs were barely capable of accomplishing the feat. He sat for a long time with his elbows resting on his thighs and his head bowed. Never before had such an unexplainable thing happened to him. Even the dreams and emotions he had felt during his Shawnee manhood ceremony could not compare with this. And at least those things were expected and could be explained.

  The building of tension and then the sudden rush of release could only be compared with one thing in his experience, sexual fulfillment. But even his most passionate encounter was tame when compared with the feelings he had just experienced. This feeling went far beyond physical release.

  Hawk knew there were many things in the world that had no explanations. From childhood he had been taught to accept such things and perhaps time would offer a reason. The old shaman of the tribe always knew where to find buffalo. Linsey, his stepmother, knew when one of her children was in danger. Hawk, himself, had heard Molly’s soundless scream for help. Perhaps this was one of those things that defied a rational explanation.

  When he knew he was once more in control of himself, Hawk untied the reins and urged the oxen to move. He refused to let his mind dwell on the one comparison that drifted repeatedly through his thoughts.

  He enforced self-discipline to control his wayward thoughts and slowly turn his distress into a towering rage. Rage he understood and accepted, it needed no explanation. Rage blocked out the lingering disappointment that he would never find a love that would create such an overwhelming fulfillment.

  Molly adjusted the spit over the fire and turned the meat so that it would cook more evenly. Adam had shot the rabbits and had helped her to clean them while they waited for Hawk to arrive with the wagon.

 

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