Frontier Highlander Vow of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 4)

by Dorothy Wiley

  “Okay, but I have to get closer first.”

  Bear targeted the spot where he’d seen the smoke from the flintlock and fired. Leaving his rifle, he dashed forward while William shot his own rifle.

  Bear raced right up to the base of the canyon wall. I’m coming Artis.

  Another shot rained limestone down around William.

  Bear put fresh powder in both his flintlock pistols. He inched forward, hugging the canyon wall with his body. If Miller leaned out and fired, Bear knew he would make a big target. He’d have to move with lightning speed to avoid being shot.

  He motioned for William to shoot again. When his brother fired, Bear raced up to a large rock outcrop situated just outside of the cave entrance. It was just big enough to hide him. He pulled both pistols. He glanced down at William and waited for his brother to reload both rifles. William nodded when he finished.

  Bear readied himself. He gave William the signal to fire. A split second after first one rifle shot and then another exploded into the cave’s mouth, Bear rushed in.

  Instantaneously, Miller raised his own pistol but Bear fired first. He heard the distinct thump of both shots as they ripped through Miller’s chest.

  The murderer was dead. Was Artis alive?

  Frantically, his eyes searched the cave. Where was she? When he didn’t see her, worry filled him so completely he had difficulty breathing. He turned back to the opening and motioned William to come up. “Hurry,” he yelled.

  William arrived a moment later. “Artis?”

  “She’s na here,” he said, wanting to weep. “Did he kill her?”

  “Bear, calm yourself. We followed two tracks here. Her horse is tied outside. Maybe she ran to hide when the firing started.”

  He prayed William was right. “Artis!” he yelled.

  “I’ll make a couple of torches out of these logs and the bedding,” William said.

  “Make haste. I’ll keep callin’ her name.”

  While William quickly assembled the torches, Bear hiked into the darkness yelling her name into the cave, over and over. Every time he did so, his heart cracked a little more. Soon it would shatter.

  William caught up to him, they each took a torch, and with Bear bending over slightly, they made their way into the darkness. The cave was damp and smelled of ancient decay.

  Bear kept calling Artis’ name, again and again. Each time, the only response was the echo of his own voice. His hope dwindled and the ache in the back of his throat grew into a bigger lump. He swallowed his despair once more. She had to be in here. There had been no sign of her outside the cave. But was she lying dead somewhere in the darkness ahead?

  Then he heard her scream. Screaming at the top of her lungs. She sounded desperate.

  “Help!”

  It was her voice. It was Artis. He rushed toward the sound so fast his torch nearly went out. William trailed right behind.

  “Artis!”

  “Look, there’s her dirk,” William said.

  “Here. I’m here. Help me. Help me,” she shrieked.

  In a few seconds, they found her hanging from the edge of an abyss so deep they could not see the bottom of the void. His heart almost stopped.

  He dropped the torch and grabbed her arms, wrapping his hands securely around each. In another second, he had her in his own arms and they were both crying, but she was nearly hysterical. Her face looked frenzied and panic-stricken. Her eyes were over-bright. She continued to sob and wail.

  “Let’s get her out of here,” he called to William, who was retrieving the torch Bear dropped and her dirk.

  “Aye, aye, out, out” she cried.

  She clung to him desperately, grabbing fistfuls of his clothing, as they made their way back.

  “Yer all right Artis. We’ll get ye out of here.”

  “Miller, he, he…” she pointed a shaking hand toward the cave opening.

  “He’s dead Artis,” Bear said, “he canna hurt any of us now.”

  She closed her eyes and big tears fell from beneath her long lashes.

  “Take my torch,” he told William.

  Bear swept Artis up into his arms and he carried her until they reached the fire at the cave entrance.

  “I’ll take Miller’s body down to the bottom of the ravine and take care of the four horses,” William said. “It’s too late to go back tonight. Maybe I can find us a rabbit or two before full dark for dinner.”

  Bear nodded his agreement and William grabbed Miller’s legs and drug the bleeding body away.

  Bear knelt to sit them down on the nearest pallet.

  “Nay! Take me outside,” Artis insisted.

  “Aye lass, but foul weather threatens again.”

  When they reached the cool rain-soaked air, Artis closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  Being outside seemed to calm her but it took several tries and the nearby booms of thunder to convince her to return to the dry cave and the warmth of the fire. When he promised to keep holding her in his lap, she finally consented and he took her back inside. Sensing that she might be afraid of the cave’s darkness, this time they sat on the pallet closest to the entrance.

  He removed his wet coat and shirt and laid them out to dry. Then he pulled her into his lap. Hugging her closely against his bare chest, he leaned his head against hers and stroked her hair continuously until her breathing finally calmed.

  Slowly, his own heart settled down and the tension in his body eased. His wife was where she belonged, in his arms, his love sheltering her against his heart.

  Chapter 41

  Bear watched as William gazed forlornly over at Deputy Mitchell’s empty desk. They were in William’s office awaiting the judge’s arrival and then the three would attend the deputy’s funeral together, along with many others from the fort and town.

  His brother’s palatable sorrow filled the room. Once they had recovered Artis, William had allowed his grief to surface. The trip back from the cave took far less time since they hadn’t had to look for tracks or navigate the creek waters. But William spent the time in silence, growing more and more despondent the closer they got to Highland. William had left for Whispering Hills immediately, knowing that Kelly would be worried sick about him.

  This morning was the first chance he and William had to talk.

  “Do ye know what yer going to say at the funeral?” Bear asked.

  “No! Nothing will come into my head except regret—regret that I left him alone to guard that bastard. My head is too full of remorse to think of anything else.”

  “He was doing his job,” Bear said, “and he was good at it. Until the devil’s own trickery hoodwinked him.”

  “But I picked him for the job,” William replied, his face grim and tormented.

  “Nay, remember, he was the deputy when we arrived in Boonesborough.”

  “I could have found another deputy—someone more experienced. But I didn’t have the heart to tell him he was too young,” William said, shaking his head. “I thought I could train him and let him grow into the job.”

  “Aye. And Mitchell thought he’d already grown into a manhood. But even though ye knew he had not quite reached it, ye gave the boy a chance to become a man. He may well have grown into a lawman as strong and as wise as ye,” Bear said, “but that was not his destiny.” Bear knew his words would mean little. William needed more time to ease the pain.

  “What am I going to say to his family?” William asked, his voice cracking with misery.

  “That ye were proud of yer deputy. That he lost his life protectin’ Boonesborough. And its citizens and ye will never forget him.”

  Judge Webb threw the door open. “Let’s get this over with.”

  His abrupt entrance and words didn’t surprise either Bear or William.

  Judge Webb turned to Bear. “I wish you hadn’t shot the son-of-a-bitch. I was looking forward to hanging him.”

  “I was tryin’ na to get shot myself,” Bear said.

  “Actually,
I’m glad you killed him Bear. He took the life of a fine young man,” Judge Webb said.

  Bear heard William let out a deep sigh. He perceived the stab of guilt that wounded his brother nearly as much as a real knife wound.

  Judge Webb went over and placed a hand on William’s shoulder. “William Wyllie, you are a man of the law. Men of the law often die in the line of duty. Sometimes they die too young. As long as we are fighting hardened criminals who follow the devil and not the good Lord, some of those who uphold the law will continue to die. The sooner you accept that the better.”

  The judge’s adamant statement made Bear recognize again that his brother’s duties put William’s life at risk every single day. He prayed God would send a robust guardian angel to watch over his brother.

  William studied the judge’s eyes, as though he were seeking absolution.

  “Do not blame yourself, sheriff. Blame the man who did it,” the judge said adamantly.

  “Aye,” Bear said, “the judge is exactly right.”

  The tension in William’s face eased just a bit. “I want to find a positive way to honor Mitchell. A way for the entire town to pay tribute to him.”

  “A way to honor fallen heroes of the law?” Judge Webb asked.

  “Exactly. But maybe not just fallen heroes. Maybe a symbol of all those who dedicate their lives to protect the weak, the defenseless, and those in danger. An emblem worn by those who fight for the general welfare of all.”

  “The English knights posted in Scotland wore their coat of arms on an oval badge or sometimes on a patch on their left arm, signifyin’ their sworn duty to protect. How about a badge?” Bear suggested.

  “Yes!” William agreed. “That would be the ideal way for us to pay our respects. We could award it posthumously to Mitchell’s family.”

  “Why not make it an even more significant tribute by having all those who enforce the law in Kentucky wear the badge, including you. It could become a permanent symbol that is respected and honored and would identify sheriffs and their deputies to all our citizens,” Judge Webb added.

  “It should be worn over the heart,” Bear proposed. “As a reminder of their vow to protect.”

  “Let’s make the first one from one of the gold pieces Miller and his friends stole. I’ll have the Governor give me one,” Webb proposed decisively. The judge grabbed a piece of paper and William’s quill and stuck the tip in his ink bottle. He drew a five-pointed star and in the center carefully printed the word ‘Deputy’.

  “Two points of the star point down,” William noticed. “That should symbolize the safety of the town resting on the shoulders of the badge wearer.”

  “And the two pointing left and right could symbolize that their duty spans east to west and west to east,” Webb said.

  “Aye, and the one at the top—pointin’ up—should signify lookin’ to God for protection, wisdom, and strength,” Bear finished.

  William tapped his finger on the paper. “I can’t wait to have the gunsmith design this. In the meantime, we’ll give this drawing to Mitchell’s mother and father. I’ll add a commendation at the bottom expressing Boonesborough gratitude for their son’s service.”

  Bear could hear the relief in his brother’s voice—William could now give Mitchell’s parents a badge of honor as a memorial. However, the small smile on his brother’s cheeks could not conceal the anguish of his heart. But, together they had come up with a way to ease the pain of the boy’s murder for both William and his family.

  While William and the judge wrote the commendation, Bear stepped outside to smoke his pipe. The sun had finally decided to make an appearance and shoo away all the clouds in the sky. He hoped Artis would make time to get out and enjoy the sunshine. It wouldn’t be long before the days grew shorter and the temperature lessened.

  That morning, he had insisted that she skip the funeral, saying she needed time to recover from the trip back to their home and her ordeal. He wanted her to take it easy for a couple of days.

  What could he do to make it easier for her to relax? Then it hit him—a tub. As soon as the funeral was over, he would go straight to the cooper’s and order one made. In recent weeks, he visited the cooper’s shop several times to order items needed for their new home—pails, a churn, and barrels. The cooper used white oak staves split from the dense center of the tree. He and his helpers heated the slats to make them pliant, bent them into shape and then bound the staves with iron. On several occasions, he watched them work, admiring their skill as they cut grooves in the lips to fit the staves snugly. Artis might have to sit on a towel to ensure she didn’t get splinters in her adorable bottom, but he was certain she would enjoy bathing regularly.

  He would also relish seeing her unclothed body resting in a tub and he always reveled in the scent of her freshly washed skin. He grinned broadly, pleased with himself for coming up with the perfect gift for both of them. He decided he would pay extra to have it built right away and delivered sometime tomorrow afternoon.

  His thoughts filtered back to the day he’d first met Artis. It was the same day as her arrival in Boonesborough and his return. So many events transpired to bring them to the point where they both stood over the carcass of a mountain lion, looking into each other’s eyes for the first time. An old Scottish proverb says no man can plan his own destiny, but he had no doubt they were destined to meet despite the obstacles thrown in her path. Nay, perhaps it was because of the adversities she’d overcome.

  She had lost her home, her family, her country, and seven years of her life. She could have wallowed in unhappiness and self-pity. Lord knows, she had a right to feel both. But instead, her hard work and determination resulted in a generous grant of land and coin that would allow her to start a new life.

  She showed her amazing courage when she’d joined a group of strangers to travel to a wilderness, where she also knew no one. All to finally have a home again. Then a gunshot nearly stole her new life from her. Despite her wound, she found the will and strength to hide from her old cold-blooded enemy. If she hadn’t, she surely would have died. Then the severity of the wound made her have to fight for life once again.

  Afterwards, when she’d recovered, and finally had a home and love, Miller stole Artis away, using her as bait to lure him. He was glad Miller was dead, not just for the callous murder of Deputy Mitchell, but for Artis. He would have done anything to rescue her. Once again, he thought with fearful clarity, he could have lost her.

  But he didn’t. It wasn’t luck. He didn’t believe in luck. With God’s help, they had both survived the onslaught of two killers.

  Love, an unbeatable ally in the battle for life, always triumphs.

  Camel and Smoke both snorted, interrupting his musings. Evidently, they had both grown tired of standing tied to the rail. Soon though, the horses would take them to bury a young man.

  Bear remembered his own youth. The loss of his parents, leaving him completely alone in the world, had burned one truth onto his young mind—family was important. They can be taken from us so easily. He guessed that was why he was so protective of his adopted family—Sam, Catherine and Little John; Stephen, Jane, their lively daughters Martha and Polly, and young son Samuel; and William, Kelly, little Nicole, and Mr. McGuffin.

  But now, with Artis, he had his own family. And the joy they found in lovemaking would undoubtedly make that family grow larger very soon. He couldn’t wait to have a wee bairn of his own. He didn’t care if it was a son or daughter. He hoped he had a half dozen of each.

  And at their home, Highland, he would tell them all wonderful stories of the rugged mountains, rolling glens, abundant streams and the deep sea Lochs of the true Highlands of Scotland.

  And he would tell them of their mother’s bravery.

  William and Judge Webb walked out. It was time.

  Chapter 42

  Artis strolled toward their bed. As she passed their bedroom table, she glanced down at her precious luckenbooth and the clan badge. They now rested
again, side by side, where they belonged. Just as she and Bear belonged side by side.

  She smiled at Bear as she climbed into their bed after a long bath soaking in warm rose scented water. Bear worked with the cooper to design the tub, complete with a place to rest her back while bathing. After her baths, all she would have to do is toss the used bath water out the window onto the rose garden she planned to put outside their bedroom window. And the hearth right there in their bedroom was be a convenient place to heat the water. It only took one or two potfulls of boiling water to heat the rest of the room temperature bathwater.

  After the coopers delivered the tub to their home earlier that afternoon, they’d helped Bear place it in the wash area he built next to their bedroom to give her a quiet and private place to relax. She was ecstatic and would be forever grateful.

  She’d washed her hair earlier in the day and brushed it until it gleamed. Now, her locks hung loose down her back and shoulders the way Bear liked it. She didn’t bother to wear anything. Bear would just make her take it off anyway.

  He’d given her a couple of days to recover from the ordeal, but tonight, she was ready for him to make love to her.

  “It’s about time ye joined me,” Bear half-heartedly complained. “I was afraid ye’d gone missin’ again.” His smile was wide, his teeth white against his tanned face and shadow of a beard.

  “Do na joke about that,” she admonished, frowning at him. “I never want to think about goin’ missin’ again.”

  He raised up on an elbow. “Me either. It was a horrible time of it for ye,” he said, “and I’m sorry I made light of it.” His handsome face looked contrite.

  “Yer forgiven,” she said, “but in a minute ye will have to make it up to me somehow.”

  “I believe I can find a way. I’m exceptionally creative ye know,” he said with a roguish grin.

  She did know. Some of the ways he’d shown his love for her had surprised her and made her realize just how naïve she had been of what happened in the marriage bed. And she wanted to experience all of them again.