Savage Spring

by Constance O'Banyon

  “Damn you,” the man bellowed as he grabbed Alexandria again and raised his fist ready to smash it into her face. She closed her eyes, waiting for the blow to fall, when a quiet, clipped, accented voice called out from the doorway.

  “Put the boy down…now!”

  Alexandria turned to look at her would-be savior and gasped in surprise. His appearance in no way resembled his cultured English accent. The stranger was a tall, golden-haired man, but she couldn’t see his face very clearly, since it was cast in shadows. He stepped into the light when he walked toward the redheaded man, and Alexandria was surprised to see that he was not only extremely handsome, but young as well.

  “I said put the boy down!” the newcomer said. He hadn’t even raised his voice, and yet there was something in the way he spoke that chilled the redheaded sailor to the bone.

  “You think you be man enough to make me, stranger?” the redheaded man said, knowing he couldn’t back down in front of his companions. He shoved Alexandria off the table and sent her sprawling across the floor. “There, I put the boy down. Was it to your liking?”

  Alexandria scrambled to her feet and was immediately pulled aside by the tavern wench, who handed her a cloth with which to wipe the food from her face. “Who is he, lad?” the tawny-haired woman asked with a gleam in her eye. “Be he your father or brother, mayhap?”

  Alexandria wiped her face hurriedly before looking back to the golden-haired man in confusion. She couldn’t help but think how out of place he looked dressed in buckskin. He appeared lean and hard. His handsome face was deeply tanned, and Alexandria thought he might be the perfect male specimen. For just a moment, his eyes settled on hers, and Alexandria saw the coldness in their blue depths.

  “No, I have never seen him before in my life,” she whispered, wondering why he had come to her rescue.

  The tavern wench’s eyes rested on the stranger hungrily. “Now, there’s a man I could get fond of real quickly. I wonder who he is? It’s for sure he ain’t from around these parts, and he ain’t from the sea.”

  “Be you ready to die, stranger?” the redheaded giant said, circling around the newcomer.

  “I think not,” the golden-haired man replied, watching the man carefully. “You can leave now, and I will overlook your treatment of the boy. We’ll just say you consumed too much rum, and let it go at that.”

  The sailor laughed contemptuously, knowing he had at least forty pounds on his challenger. “Let’s not say that. Let’s say I was gonna take the lad back to the ship with me, and I still am, lessen you think you’re man enough to stop me.”

  “No, you aren’t. The only way you will take that boy is if I’m dead.” The threat was spoken softly, but it carried all the impact of an ultimatum.

  “I think one should know the name of the man who’s about to do him in. My name’s Bob Travers, and I’m mate aboard the Lucky Maiden that just made port from England tonight—you got a name?”

  By now, several of the red-haired man’s friends had gathered around, and one of them reached for the knife he had tucked into his belt. Before he could withdraw it, however, an old man, also dressed in buckskin, placed the barrel of his rifle at the back of the man’s neck. “Ifen I was you, I’d kinda ease off, and that goes for the rest of you, too. This don’t concern none of you.”

  No one wanted to dispute the old man’s argument. As far as they were concerned, Bob Travers was now on his own.

  Tag’s eyes narrowed, and Bob saw more than he wanted to in the blue depths. The coldness he read there sent a chill down his spine. He might be bigger than this man, but he knew he would have to prove his strength. He could see his mates watching with interest to see what the outcome would be. The first law of the sea was that a man had to prove himself in a fight. Bob knew he couldn’t back down now, no matter how much he wanted to.

  “My name isn’t important. I give you one more chance to reconsider, Bob Travers,” Tag said, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. He stared at Travers with his piercing blue eyes, and the sailor knew he wouldn’t have an easy conquest in this man.

  In that moment, Bob leaped forward, but Tag smoothly sidestepped him and brought his elbow down against his back, knocking him to the floor. Before the luckless Bob could gain his feet, Tag leaped on top of him and pinned him beneath him. The hapless sailor knew he had been bested. He hadn’t even been allowed to deliver one punch to the young man. He struggled, thinking he could throw the man off, but he was astounded at the strength of the golden-haired man.

  “I know when I’m beat, stranger. Let me up, and we’ll call it your fight.”

  Tag nodded, and with quick agility he stood up and offered the redheaded sailor his hand. “I think I’ll just ask you to leave now,” Tag said, nodding toward the door.

  Bob’s laughter roared out as he took the offered hand and allowed Tag to help him stand. “No hard feelings. When a man betters me, I’ll admit it. I always like to know the name of the man who bested me, though.”

  Tag wasn’t in a forgiving mood. He looked at Farley, who had lowered his rifle. “My friends call me Falcon…you can call me Mr. Knight.”

  Again Bob’s laughter boomed out, and he slapped Tag on the shoulder. “It’s pleased I am to meet you, Mr. Knight. If ever you be needing a friend, you can always call on Big Bob Travers.”

  The big man gathered up his coat and motioned for his friends to follow him. Soon the tavern was empty but for the serving maid, Alexandria, and the two strangers.

  Alexandria watched as the two men sat down at a table and the serving wench hurried over to them. Alexandria noticed that the pretty maid sidled up to the man who called himself Falcon Knight. She wanted to let him know how grateful she was that he had come to her rescue, but she didn’t know if he would welcome her thanks. She waited until the serving maid took the two men’s orders and left the tap room before she approached him.

  “M…Mr. Knight, I want to thank you for saving me tonight. I don’t know why you bothered, since I’m nothing to you, but I thank you all the same.”

  When his blue eyes settled on her, Alexandria drew in her breath. Never had she seen eyes that held so much coldness in their depths. For a moment she read many things in his eyes that she couldn’t define: compassion, sadness, understanding, suffering. All those emotions were there in those expressive eyes, only to disappear when his eyes narrowed with a look of indifference.

  “What’s your name, boy?” the man asked, studying Alexandria with little interest.

  “I am called Al…Alex.”

  “Well, Alex, it isn’t really my practice to interfere in other people’s problems, but I myself was almost sent to sea as a cabin boy when I was about your age. Just consider the matter ended and run along home.”

  Tag felt pity for the ragged little boy who had been treated so roughly. He was a dirty little beggar, and he couldn’t tell much about his looks because his face was so smudged. He watched in irritation as the lad removed his tattered cap and twirled it around nervously.

  “You see, sir, I don’t have a home to go to. My mother and father are both dead, and I don’t have nowhere to go. That was why I came in here. I wanted to get out of the cold and hoped I might pick up a crumb of bread.” Alex didn’t feel the least bit guilty that she was playing on the man’s sympathies by acting the poor waif—after all, everything she had told him was the truth. She couldn’t be blamed for omitting some of her story or for pretending to be a boy. Mr. Knight had been kind to her tonight; perhaps, he would give her a bite to eat.

  “Climb up at the table, boy. From the looks of you, it would ’pear you could do with a good meal,” the other man said. For the first time, Alexandria looked at the old man who was Mr. Knight’s companion. His eyes were kind, and she could tell he had been moved by her woeful tale. Alexandria hurriedly sat down beside him before Mr. Knight decided to voice any objections.

  “You sure are a scrawny little thing,” the old man said. He reached across
the table and offered Alex his hand. “My names Farley, Alex. You got a last name?”

  She took the old man’s hand and shook it. “Just Alex, nothing more. What’s your last name?”

  “Just Farley, nothing more.”

  By now, the serving wench had returned with a tray of delicious-smelling food that made Alex’s mouth water.

  The golden man, which was how Alex thought of the man who had saved her, motioned for her to dig in to the food. He smiled slightly as she grabbed a bowl of stew, picked up a spoon, and started shoveling it hungrily into her mouth. Alex had only finished a portion of the stew when she pushed the bowl aside. She had been hungry, but it had taken very little food to fill her.

  The two men ate quietly as Alexandria pushed her plate aside and laid her head down on the table. Suddenly, she began to feel tired, so she closed her eyes and felt herself drifting off to sleep.

  “Poor little mite,” Farley observed. “Do you reckon he was telling the truth ’bout being motherless?”

  Tag lifted a cup of coffee to his lips and looked down at the curly, mink-colored hair. “Who can say? I suppose the least we can do is allow him to sleep in our room tonight, but I want him gone first thing in the morning. I don’t need to adopt anyone else’s troubles. I have plenty of my own.”

  The serving maid came over and stood beside Tag. She rubbed her body against his and gave him a promising glance. “My name’s Molly. If there be anything you want…anything at all…you have only to ask for me,” she said, giving Tag a smile that was an obvious invitation.

  Farley grinned at Tag, and Tag gave him a heated glance before turning back to Molly. “All we will need is a place to stay for a few days.”

  Molly smiled, thinking that since this incredible man would be staying around, she might get the chance to know him better. “I’ll just show you to your rooms up them stairs.”

  Tag stood up, hoisted the young boy to his shoulder, and followed Molly, who was swinging her hips enticingly.

  Farley grinned to himself when he noticed Tag watching Molly closely. He laughed aloud when Tag almost bumped into the railing. “It wouldn’t hurt none if en you was to watch where you was going,” he said in amusement.

  Tag gave Farley a dark glance, not caring much for the old man’s humor.

  Once inside the room, Molly lit the lamp, then Tag nodded for her to leave. He dumped his burden on the bed and stood staring down at him. He resented the fact that the young boy had struck a cord of pity in his heart. The last thing he needed was to be saddled with some lad who apparently couldn’t stay out of trouble.

  There were two beds in the room, and Tag sat down on the bed where he had placed the boy to remove his boots, leaving the other bed for Farley.

  Farley dumped his pack on the floor and tested the bed gingerly. He lay down, fully clothed, and propped his hands behind his head. “Now this here is what I call living. I ain’t slept in a real bed in…hell, I can’t even remember when!”

  Tag looked about the room in distaste. Although it seemed clean enough, he wasn’t too impressed with the meager furnishings. He stripped his shirt and breeches off and stood clad only in his breechcloth. “I meant what I said about the boy, Farley,” he warned. “Tomorrow he goes.”

  Farley grumbled to himself and turned over on his side.

  Tag blew out the lamp and moved the boy over so he could lie down beside him, resenting the fact that he had to share his bed with a dirty little street urchin.

  “That were a stroke of genius you turning your Indian name ’round and using it. I kinda like the sound of Falcon Knight,” Farley said behind a yawn.

  “I can’t say I’m crazy about it, but I can hardly use my real name, can I?”

  “Nope, I reckon not.”

  “I think we better not talk about it just now. The boy might awaken,” Tag said, yawning.

  “I ’spect,” Farley said, drifting off to sleep.

  Alex was dreaming that she was warm and protected. She could feel a hard, muscular body next to hers, and she sought to move closer to that warmth. She was only half awake when the man turned in his sleep, and she curled up around his body, falling to sleep once more.

  Farley let out an oath and jumped out of bed. Grabbing the covers, he threw them on the floor and lay down on them. “I can’t sleep on anything that moves,” he muttered to himself, thinking a soft bed wasn’t all he had thought it would be.

  A light snow had begun to fall past the window and a chilled wind was blowing outside the small room. Alexandria sighed contentedly in her sleep. For the moment, her troubles were forgotten, and, for the first time in months, she slept an untroubled sleep.

  Claudia Landon slipped out of her gown and walked toward her satin-covered bed. She smiled at the man who lay there naked, waiting for her. Melvin Garner was her lawyer, and the only man to whom she could speak her mind.

  “I’m sorry to be late, Melvin, but I had to see about poor old Howard.”

  “You’d better see that he is well and happy, Claudia. If he dies, you will be out of a home, and me along with you.”

  She laughed and dropped down on the bed beside him. “You are even more unscrupulous than I am. Don’t worry. Howard will live a very long time, and Tag and Joanna will soon be dead.”

  “I wouldn’t count on that, Claudia. The three men you sent after him didn’t accomplish what you paid them to do. Two of them are dead, and the other one won’t even talk about returning to finish the deed.”

  She lay down and rubbed her body against him. “You will just have to find someone else to send. You are the lawyer—you handle it.”

  “There is no one else to send. I have come to believe that the boy and his sister will never return. It appears to me that if they were coming back they would already have done so.”

  “Did the man see Tag?”

  “He’s not sure. He saw Gibbs shoot a white man before he died, but Jude doesn’t know if it was Taggert James, and he couldn’t find out if he died from his wounds. Jude said he was hiding in the woods and couldn’t get near enough to see clearly.”

  “I don’t know, Melvin. Joanna might not ever come back, but Tag will, if he’s alive. You can bet your life he’ll come back if he’s able.”

  “I hope he does, Claudia. It would be far easier to deal with him here in Philadelphia than to get at him in the Blackfoot country.”

  “He’s a man now,” Claudia speculated.

  “Yes, and if he ever finds out that we forged those papers giving Howard and you power of attorney, he will see you and me swing from the gallows.”

  “It would have been simpler if you had just made me the guardian.”

  “I couldn’t do that. Howard Landon was a shrewd man. He had those papers so well written that there was no way I could write him out without running into trouble. No, your best bet is to keep him alive, because when he dies, you have no legal standing whatsoever.”

  “All he does is stare at that portrait all day. It gives me the creeps, Melvin.”

  “I’ve seen the picture of the girl—Joanna. I wouldn’t mind staring at her all day myself.”

  Claudia raised her hand and struck him hard across the face. “Don’t you ever say that again! I loathe Joanna, and I will not have you telling me of her beauty!”

  Melvin realized his mistake and pulled Claudia tightly against him. “How could I think of anyone but you when you are naked in my arms?” he breathed.

  Claudia closed her eyes, willing herself to feel something for Melvin. No one made her feel alive anymore. She knew that all the James wealth hadn’t made her happy. What she wanted most in the world had always evaded her. But if anyone had asked her what she really wanted to make her happy, she couldn’t even have told him.

  It was as if she were living her life in a shell, waiting for something to happen. She had to live with the threat day and night that Taggart might return.

  She pushed Melvin away and stood up, walking over to the window. Looking out on t
he front lawn, she watched the snowflakes drift down. Tag was out there somewhere. He might not come tomorrow, or even next year, but deep down she knew he would come…oh, yes he would come!

  Chapter Ten

  Alexandria felt safe for the first time in many days. She curled up against the warm body pressed close to her and sighed contentedly.

  Tag awoke and stared into the darkened room. Like Farley, he wasn’t accustomed to sleeping on a soft bed. Many troubled thoughts danced through his mind. He and Farley had only arrived in Philadelphia that day, and everything was strange to him. Now that he was here, he was anxious to face his Uncle Howard and Claudia, but he knew he must bide his time until just the right moment. Tomorrow he would have to buy new clothing for himself and Farley. The last thing he wanted to do was to stand out in a crowd.

  He shifted his weight when the boy gouged him in the ribs with his elbow. Tag pushed the boy over, but he rolled back against him, so he turned his back. He didn’t know what he was going to do with the boy. He had his own problems, and he didn’t need anyone else’s. Tomorrow he would give the boy some money and send him on his way, he thought.

  At last Tag’s eyelids became heavy, and despite his discomfort, he drifted off to sleep.

  Alexandria awoke during the night and moved against something warm. For the moment she had forgotten where she was. Reaching out her hand, she felt it brush against someone’s face, and she felt the stubble of a beard! She sat up quickly and looked about the darkened room. Hearing someone snoring loudly, her eyes went to a dark form that was lying on the floor in front of a window. When her eyes became accustomed to the dark, Alexandria could see the old man, and then she remembered the events of the evening before.