Savage Spring

by Constance O'Banyon

  That evening Windhawk helped Joanna feed the children and put them to bed. He then sat beside her as she spoon-fed Tag some broth.

  After everyone had been cared for, he lifted Joanna into his arms and carried her to bed. She curled up next to him, feeling his love reach out to her.

  “Have I told you I think you are wonderful, my husband?” she asked softly.

  “You have mentioned it once or twice,” he replied, resting his face against her red-gold hair.

  “Not many men, white or Indian, would have been as considerate as you are, Windhawk.”

  “It is easy to be kind to someone like you, Joanna. You are always so busy doing things for others, you do not often realize when you are tired yourself.”

  “Hold me, Windhawk,” she said, needing his warmth.

  “Every day of our life, my love,” he whispered.

  Chapter Five

  Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, January 1848

  “I won’t do it, and she cannot make me!” Alexandria Bradford said, stomping her foot and glaring at Tilly, her stepmother’s maid.

  “I don’t think you have any choice, young lady. You are fortunate that your stepmother cares enough about your welfare and wants to see you happy. Rodney is such a dear man, and I’m sure the two of you will deal quite well together.”

  “What he is…is my stepbrother, and I have never liked him. I will not now, nor at any time in the future, marry him!” Alexandria said, pushing a stray mink-colored curl out of her face and plopping down on the window seat. “Rodney reminds me of a fish, with his big lips and bulging eyes. He is horrid, and I will not have him!” she reiterated.

  Tilly’s mouth gaped open, and she looked like she might have an attack of apoplexy. “You dare to speak ill of dear Rodney when he has always been so kind to you! You are your father’s daughter and an ungrateful child.”

  Alexandria turned her back on the woman and looked out the second-story window. The trees were bleak and bare, and a thin layer of snow covered the countryside. Alexandria was remembering the day Tilly had come to Meadowlake Farm with Alexandria’s stepmother when she had married her father. As time had progressed, the faithful housekeeper, Mrs. Benson, and Colman, the hired man who had served the manor in Alexandria’s mother’s time, had all been dismissed and replaced with her stepmother, Barbara’s, choice of servants.

  Alexandria turned back to Tilly and gave her a haughty look. “This is the nineteenth century—there is no way Barbara can force me to marry anyone I don’t want to, and I’ll not marry Rodney! I have written several letters to my guardian, Mr. Alderman, and when he finds out what Barbara is trying to do, he will put a stop to it. I expect him home from Boston any day now. Having said that, I will say no more. You can go and tattle to Barbara as you always have, and while you are at it, you can report to her that I detest my stepbrother!”

  “Be that as it may, miss, you will do as the mistress orders,” Tilly said, with a determined look on her face. “Your stepmother has tried to be a mother to you, but you wouldn’t allow it. Now that your father’s dead, she wants nothing more than to see you happy.”

  Alexandria stood up, and her amber-colored eyes narrowed. “What she wants is Meadowlake. This is my home! It was left to me by my mother’s father and my grandfather. I will not marry my stepbrother just so he and Barbara can get their hands on Meadowlake! I am not worried, because I know Mr. Alderman will never allow that to happen.”

  “We’ll see, Miss Prim and Proper, we’ll see,” Tilly stated. “You’ll find yourself with a husband before too long. I wouldn’t count too much on any help from that trustee of yours. I know for a fact that the letters you wrote to Mr. Alderman never reached him.” With a smirk on her face, she sailed out of the room, leaving Alexandria to ponder her words.

  When she had gone, Alexandria sank back down on the windowseat and pressed her forehead against the cold windowpane. Tears of hopelessness fell down her face as she reflected on her situation. Alexandria thought of Mr. Alderman, whom her grandfather had appointed as trustee of her estate. He was a kindly old gentleman who tended to the disbursement of the moneys to run Meadowlake. Three months ago he had gone to Boston on an extended business trip, unaware that he was leaving her in the clutches of her unscrupulous stepmother. Alexandria knew if Mr. Alderman was aware of what Barbara was trying to do to her, he would come home immediately. If what Tilly implied were true, then Barbara had intercepted all the letters she had written Mr. Alderman, and she could expect no help from him. Evidently Barbara had gotten her hands on the letters and destroyed them.

  Alexandria closed her eyes, feeling the hopelessness of her situation for the first time. She had no one to turn to. Her father had been dead for almost a year, and her mother had died four years before that. Alexandria had not known a happy day since her father’s tragic death.

  She remembered back three years ago when her father had gone on a business trip to Philadelphia. When he returned, he had brought Barbara and her son, Rodney, home with him and introduced them as Alexandria’s stepmother and stepbrother. Alexandria had been fifteen at the time, and she hadn’t liked Barbara or Rodney from the start.

  She remembered back to happier times before her mother had died. This house had rung with the sound of laughter. There hadn’t been any laughter in many months now.

  Alexandria’s mother had been taken suddenly. The doctor had said it was no more than a mild malady and had put her to bed for a day or two. The mild malady had turned out to be pneumonia, and, within a week, her mother had died.

  Alexandria’s father had taken her mother’s death very hard and had begun to drink heavily. For a time after his marriage to Barbara, he had stopped drinking, but that hadn’t lasted more than a few months.

  One night last spring, during a terrible rainstorm, her father had been returning from town and his horse had thrown him. A neighbor had found him the next morning and brought him home. Her father had been suffering from a head wound, and he had died without ever regaining consciousness. Alexandria still grieved for the man her father had once been. In the last years of his life he had almost been a stranger to her.

  She stood up and, walking over to the vanity table, picked up a hairbrush and began absent-mindedly to brush her rich, mink-colored hair that seem to sparkle with golden highlights. Alexandria had never liked her hair, because she thought it was too curly. The tresses, which were long enough to hang down to her waist, were so curly that they fell only to just below her shoulders. She stared at her amber-colored eyes with distaste. While her eyes might look grand on a feline, they were certainly not becoming in a girl of eighteen, she thought.

  Alexandria plucked at the velvet trim on her rust-colored gown, then stood back to survey her image in the mirror over the vanity table. She was small in stature, barely topping five feet. She was small-boned, but her hips were well rounded and her legs were well shaped.

  She remembered a time when her father had called her his little kitten and she had felt pretty. Now, beside her voluptuous, overdeveloped stepmother, she felt very insignificant. The face that stared back at her from the mirror had soft, delicate features, and, in spite of her amber eyes, Alexandria thought she might not be too bad looking, although it was hard for her to judge her own looks. The dimples in her cheeks winked at her when she smiled, and her complexion wasn’t bad, she told herself.

  Alexandria straightened her back and tried to thrust out her small breasts, wishing she had a bosom to show off as did most other young ladies her age. Barbara always told her that she looked more like thirteen than her actual age, and Alexandria thought she might be right. One thing was for certain…no young man ever came calling, and she was never allowed to attend any of the functions for the young people in the county. Alexandria knew that Barbara and Rodney kept her virtually a prisoner, and she was beginning to resent it.

  Sighing heavily, she placed the brush down on the vanity table and walked toward the door. It was nearing the dinner hour, and Al
exandria knew her stepmother wouldn’t tolerate her tardiness at meals.

  With a stubborn set to her chin, she descended the stairs and walked into the sitting room where she knew Barbara and Rodney would be waiting for her.

  “Had you been one minute later, Alexandria, I would have sent Tilly after you,” Barbara declared in an angry voice.

  Alexandria watched her stepmother walk toward her, noticing for the first time that she was beginning to show her age. Barbara was a very beautiful woman and towered inches above her stepdaughter, putting Alexandria at a distinct disadvantage. Barbara’s hair was jet black, with just the tiniest hint of gray at the temples. Alexandria couldn’t help but notice the tiny lines that fanned out from Barbara’s eyes and mouth.

  “Tilly has told me that you have been sulking in your room all day, Alexandria, and I just want you to know I will not tolerate such actions from you, young lady!” Barbara said as her voice raised in volume.

  Alexandria merely shrugged her shoulders, and before she could react, Barbara slapped her hard across the cheek. “You have defied me for the last time, Alexandria. From now on, you will know who’s in charge around here. You will do as you are told, and I want that clearly understood.”

  Alexandria held her hand to her cheek where it still stung from her stepmother’s blow. “If by doing as I’m told, you mean marry Rodney, the answer is no, I will not! No power on earth can make me marry him!”

  Alexandria’s eyes traveled to the gray settee where Rodney sat watching her with a smirk on his face. He was known in the county as somewhat aggressive where the ladies were concerned, but he had often proven to be a coward when he had come up against an enraged father or husband.

  He stood up and walked over to Alexandria and flipped a curl from her cheek. “Mayhap you would like me to show you how I persuade reluctant women to do as I wish, Alexandria? I can be very persuasive when the mood strikes me.”

  Alexandria shivered as she looked into Rodney’s gray eyes. She had seen what he was capable of in the past, and she feared that after tonight he would be even more forward and daring in his attempts to get her alone.

  Rodney had dark hair like his mother, but while he resembled Barbara in looks, he was far from handsome. His features were too feminine to be handsome. He was very thin, and his shoulders were sloped and rounded. Again, Alexandria shivered as he ran his cold, clammy hand across her cheek, invoking in her a strong distasteful feeling.

  “I will have you, Alexandria, with or without your consent. Would it not be better if you were to give in gracefully, and save me the trouble of having to force you?” His voice was low and raspy and seemed to play on Alexandria’s nerve ends.

  “Why should you want a reluctant bride? There cannot be much joy in that, even for you.”

  Rodney smiled, and his eyes followed the graceful line of her neck down to rest on her well-shaped breasts. Looking back into Alexandria’s amber eyes, he smiled at her discomfort. “You underestimate your charms. I am not the first man to fall under the spell of those golden eyes. I have seen how men look at you as a treasure to be won. Soon you will be my treasure, Alexandria. I believe after we have been married for a while, you will begin to enjoy being married to me.”

  When he would have touched her again, she moved back a pace. “Neither of you is fooling me. I know what you’re up to! You want Meadowlake, and the only way you can gain control of it is by keeping me under your control. Meadowlake belongs to me, and I will not share any part of it with either of you! I am aware that you have destroyed my letters to Mr. Alderman. When he returns from Boston, he will have you both thrown off Meadowlake.”

  Barbara’s laughter rang out. “I do not think so, Alexandria, because when he returns you will be a married woman, and he will have no right to interfere between you and your husband. Until that time, I control you, Alexandria. Mr. Alderman is merely your trustee of Meadowlake until such time as you marry…while I am your guardian. You would do well to remember that.”

  Suddenly, Alexandria felt very tired. She was weary of Rodney’s hiding in darkened corners ready to pounce on her. She was tired of having to lock her door at night for fear he would come into her room and force his unwanted attentions on her. It was not easy to live in a house where her every move was reported back to her stepmother by snooping servants. She had no one to turn to—nowhere to run for safety.

  “Take Meadowlake. I give it to you, just allow me to live in peace,” she said, sinking down into a chair and leaning her head against the high back.

  Barbara leaned against the chair Alexandria was sitting in and fixed her with a cold glare. “You haven’t got the power to hand Meadowlake over to us. Your grandfather’s will stipulated that in the event of your mother’s death, the lands and money were to be handed over to you on your twenty-fifth birthday unless you were married, and, in that event, everything was to be handed to you on your wedding day. It appears your grandfather didn’t care much for your father, or perhaps he didn’t trust him.”

  Alexandria closed her eyes. No, she thought, her grandfather hadn’t liked her father at all after he had started drinking. He couldn’t have known that the will he had drawn up to protect his granddaughter now placed her in jeopardy.

  “I will ask you to remember that this is my home. I’m sure there is some way I can prevent you from controlling me. I am prepared to allow you both to stay here, but only if you do not try to force your will on me,” Alexandria said with a show of bravado.

  Rodney slumped down on the settee, looking very much like a man who would soon have his own way. “Unlike your grandfather, your father left no will; therefore, my mother is your guardian. Until you are either married or you reach the advanced age of twenty-five, she controls your life, Alexandria.”

  Alexandria had heard this all before; in fact, she was weary of being reminded every day that she was subservient to her stepmother’s wishes. “I can do little about my plight, but I still have the say over whom I will marry.” She fixed Rodney with a golden gaze. “At the risk of repeating myself, I will neither now, nor in the future, marry you. I would sooner marry the lowest creature on earth than you!”

  Rodney’s eyes flamed with anger, but before he could speak, his mother jerked Alexandria up by the shoulders, her fingers digging painfully into Alexandria’s tender skin.

  “When I married your father in Philadelphia, I thought him to be a man of means. Had I known at the time that all he had really belonged to his daughter, I would have looked elsewhere for a more suitable husband. I have no intentions of being cheated out of what belongs to me. I will see my son installed as master of this estate, and there is nothing you can do about it!”

  Alexandria tried to get free of Barbara’s grip, and when her stepmother released her she fell backwards onto the floor, showing a fair amount of fluffy-white petticoats.

  “Get out of my sight, Alexandria! Go to your room and don’t allow me to see your face until you can behave as a proper young lady should!”

  Alexandria sprang to her feet and faced her adversary.

  “You are no lady, nor would you know one if you saw her. I have stood by while you insulted my father at every turn. I watched you crush him without ever voicing any objection. But you will find I am not as easy to crush as my father was. As much as I loved him, I know now that he leaned on my mother, who was the strong one. I am my mother’s daughter!”

  “Take her to her room!” Barbara screamed. “I will no longer tolerate her disrespect!”

  Alexandria watched as her stepmother’s face became livid with rage. Rodney stood up and took her hand, pulling her from the room. Alexandria tried to protest, but when she did, Rodney swung her around and lifted her into his arms. She kicked and squirmed as he ascended the stairs, and when he reached her bedroom, he carried her inside and deposited her onto the bed none too gently.

  Alexandria quickly scrambled to her knees as he dropped down on the bed beside her. “I think the time has come to teach you so
me manners, little girl. Mayhap you won’t act so haughty after I deflower you.” His hand ran down the front of her dress, and Alexandria cringed inside. “No, I don’t think you will be so high and mighty once I have made you a woman.”

  Alexandria tried to scramble off the bed, but he caught her skirt and jerked her backwards. She landed beside Rodney, and he pinned her arms over her head.

  “Damn these petticoats,” he muttered, trying to loosen her gown, while Alexandria struggled with all her might.

  “Don’t touch me!” she cried, trying to struggle free.

  His grip only tightened on her wrists. “I will do more than touch you, you little wildcat. You have had me panting after you for the last two years, and you know it, don’t you, Alexandria?”

  “I detest you!” she cried, feeling as helpless as a newborn baby. “You think you are above the law, but I still have friends in this county. They will see you thrashed if you touch me.”

  His loud, boisterous laughter startled her. “You have no friends left. Your father alienated all your neighbors when he married my mother. They didn’t take too well to his marrying beneath him, did they?” he said, grabbing the front of her gown and ripping it open.

  Alexandria gasped and tried to wiggle free so she could cover her nakedness. She felt a shudder wrack her body as he reached out and caressed her exposed breasts, and her face flushed red with shame.

  “Damn, you are lovely,” he said, looking into her eyes. “I have waited a long time to have you.”

  “I’ll scream!” she threatened.

  “Go ahead,” he taunted. “Who would come to your aid? The servants are all loyal to me and my mother.”

  Just then the door was pushed open, and Barbara stood there with an angry frown on her face. “Get out of this room, Rodney. Do you want the servants to spread tales about how you raped a helpless girl? The high and mighty neighbors would love that little tidbit of gossip, wouldn’t they?”