“Brave Heart, I need to speak with you.”
Standing behind her decision to allow Jared to stay was easy when he was asleep, but now she wasn’t sure. She knelt at the low hearth and used an iron poker to pull the false backing out. Her father had designed the fireplace to warm both her room and the spare room.
Up half the night comforting Jared left her in need of sleep. If she could avoid him until the rain stopped, her life would be great. She walked toward the door.
He groaned as he sat back. “Please wait.”
Joy wanted to be rude and leave, but she couldn’t. She stood in the doorway and listened.
“I guess your…friend told you about yesterday. I’ll apologize when I see her. I didn’t mean to hurt her. I was just shocked to see her there.”
Joy could hardly contain her amusement. She had never heard anything so hilarious in her life. This dolt actually thought she was two different people. This was too funny for words. She needed to leave so she could laugh.
“What’s her name?”
Joy tried to lower her voice. Keeping Jared around might be fun after all. “Joy.”
Jared watched Brave Heart leave. Before falling asleep, he had realized he was so caught up by the young woman’s beauty that he hadn’t apologized. He’d be just as angry if someone attacked his woman. He chastised himself for stammering over his words. He didn’t want to sound as if he were a fork-tongued white man.
“I’ll make it up to them,” he mumbled.
The ingenuity of the cabin’s architect impressed him. Soaking in the tranquility of the room, he ate his breakfast. The décor had a calming effect on him. Almost everything was made of ash, birch or oak. Yet the wood didn’t overpower. The cabin and furniture were ingenious. He wondered how Brave Heart and Joy had come to live in such a place. They’ve shown me nothing but kindness, and I repaid them by assaulting her.
Chapter Three
The light rain didn’t thwart Joy’s taste for fish. After fishing all morning, she returned to the cabin with her catch. The sight of Jared slumped over the kitchen table asleep swept several emotions through her: frustration she’d forgotten to drug him, relief he’d fallen asleep, and a more disturbing one. A warm murmur rumbled through her. She liked the feelings but didn’t like its source. Why do I feel like this for you?
She pushed away the urge to stroke his hair. She smiled, thinking it odd this man liked sleeping at the table more than in the bed. After she set the fish on the table, she went into her room to clean herself and came out a short while later dressed in baggy trousers and a different all-too-large flannel shirt she’d taken from her godfather.
The sight of Jared gutting the fish stopped her. She’d have to remember to hide the knives tonight after Jared fell asleep. She took a knife out of the drawer and helped gut the fish.
“I’m sorry about yesterday. I don’t know what came over me.”
As usual, he sounded sincere, but could she trust his word? According to Lucas, men like him lied easier than they drew breath. She searched for excuses for Jared’s behavior, including he must have been dreaming. He attacked the bad memories, not her. He would be leaving in a few days anyway, so she might as well make peace now. She’d never had a houseguest other than family and would enjoy meeting someone new. With his injury, he couldn’t hurt her anyway.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” he snapped.
Joy was about to tell him to forget about the incident, but instead she asked, “Why are you apologizing, because you think Brave Heart will throw you out?” She took all of the fish from the table to the sink and began washing them in a bucket of water. He was the wrong one, not her. She didn’t have to forgive him if she didn’t want to. Who did this arrogant man think he was? Lucas told her about how they treated the slaves. This man had probably never apologized in his life.
“No!”
“Then why didn’t you apologize yesterday?”
“You seem to forget. You ordered me to my room yesterday as if I were a child.”
She turned on him hotly. “Don’t you dare try to put your guilt on me. You could have apologized on your way, but you didn’t.” She plopped the fish on the table and began staking it.
“We’re stuck together for a few days. Let’s call a truce.” He held his hand out to her.
She wasn’t about to take his hand. It would be too easy for him to grab her and cut her throat like they did her mother. Instead, she placed her hands on her hips and glared at him.
“What is your problem? I’ve apologized. What more do you want?”
Anger squelched the little remaining fear she had of him. “You actually believe I owe you something because you apologized?” She tossed the knife on the table and walked around to him. “You didn’t even mean it, yet I should bow at your feet and be grateful you apologized to lowly me.” She threw herself at his feet and bowed in a sub-serviette manner, then tried one of Lucas’s imitations. “Oh, massa, I’z thansks yoo’z so much foe apologizin’ to lit’ ole worfless me. I doan dee-serve yo’ kandness.”
Eyes wide in horror, he ordered, “Get up!”
Laughing, she returned to her fish. “Isn’t that what you’re used to?” She smirked and raised a brow. “Just trying to make yooz feel at home, massa.”
“How dare you?” He tried to rise from his seat, grimaced and remained seated. “You don’t even know me, yet you’ve already condemned me. I did mean it and—”
“Hog wash. The only reason you apologized was because you thought it was the thing to do under the circumstances. You should have apologized because you felt you were wrong and regretted your actions. Or have you never been wrong before? Is this a new thing for you?”
“And what made you come to this grand conclusion.” He leaned back in the chair and placed his bad leg on the seat across from him.
“You had to know you were wrong the second you pushed me. Did you apologize?”
“No…” He seemed to shrink before her eyes. “But I should have.” Gone was his bravado of only a few moments before.
“Yes you should have.” Joy stormed out, grabbing her coat along the way. She needed to get away from this arrogant, self-centered man before she went against everything she was taught and tossed him out.
Disgusted with himself, Jared shook his head as he leaned over to examine his injured leg. It killed him, but at least it wasn’t bleeding anymore and most of the swelling had gone down. He thanked God an infection or fever hadn’t set in. He looked toward the doorway Joy had stormed out of.
He didn’t think it possible, but she was more enchanting than he remembered from the previous night. Her silky smooth, toffee skin begged for caressing. Her luscious lips were made for kissing. He could imagine her delicate fingers exploring his body. He had forced himself to stop staring while she spoke but had glanced over and caught a glimpse of her deep mocha eyes and found himself lost. Glad for his injury, he sighed. It would help him stay away from her.
He still couldn’t believe their argument. He’d never apologized to anyone in his life and had waited for her to acknowledge his gesture. The apology had been sincere, but she’d thrown it back in his face. Yes, she had helped him, but he refused to grovel. Then there was her beauty. Sexual frustration mixed with impatience took over, and he’d snapped at her. He wanted to take his words and tone back, but he couldn’t tell her that her beauty clouded his mind. That he’d snapped out of frustration of not being able to have her.
Her dramatic behavior piled insult onto injury. This had gotten out of hand. She made a big deal out of a little push. She wanted him to be the bad guy, and he couldn’t change her mind, even if he wanted to.
All that beauty wasted on a pigheaded, little girl.
He thought back to last night when he first saw her. Coming out of the atrocities of war to her loveliness, it took him a few seconds to realize where he was. He didn’t fully comprehend what happened until he was already in his room.
The chair
creaked as he situated himself. Joy’s angry words ran through his mind. Women had always been attracted to him, but something about Joy made him uneasy. He propped up his injured leg on a throw that dangled over the chair and returned to the task of figuring out why Joy had such an aversion to him. People always liked him.
He pictured Joy in his mind, remembering her reactions to him. He’d been so caught up in her looks, he hadn’t paid attention to anything else. He could now see she was afraid of him, and he played into her fear by pushing her away.
He’d been dreaming and thought someone was trying to keep him from saving his brother. He didn’t realize what he was doing. Nothing could come between him and reaching his brother. By the time he came to his senses, she had sent him to his room. He needed to show her he wasn’t what she thought, but didn’t know how.
He saw a sketchpad on the counter and picked it up. He knew he shouldn’t, but curiosity got the best of him. He opened the pad and examined the pictures.
“Brave Heart must be an artist.” The sketches of nature scenes were almost as impressive as the woodwork in the house. He looked around, but didn’t see any of the artwork displayed. Thinking he was also very good with the pencil, he smiled.
Jared cleaned off the kitchen table the best he could, then took a sheet of paper out of the back of the sketchpad. He searched through the drawers for a pencil, finally finding one. His leg was now throbbing, and he needed to sit and compose himself.
He took the pencil to the paper and sketched Joy. “Well, Brave Heart, you sure picked a beautiful one, didn’t you?” After finishing, he set the pencil down. This was his best work. His fingers glided over the image. So lovely.
Admiring her fire, he recalled how she ignored her fears and told him off. “You are a lucky man, Brave Heart.”
A short while later, Joy entered the cabin saying, “I have water from the hot spring.”
Jared looked up in time to see her set a bucket on the floor and hang her coat on the hook by the front door.
“May I speak to you please?” he asked.
She grabbed a washcloth from a cabinet in the kitchen and the bucket. She couched on the floor to examine his broken leg. “This is healing well. I don’t think you will have a limp at all.”
He could see her anger had dissipated and wished he could be half as forgiving as she. “I’m sorry, Joy. I am truly sorry.” He wanted her to look into his eyes, but she didn’t. This time he would do things her way. Forgiveness was not automatic, and he wouldn’t try to force her.
She continued washing his wound. The delicate touch of her fingers against his skin had him wanting to touch her in very delicate places.
“I lost my anger along my walk. All is forgiven.” She lightly pressed the flesh near the wound as if searching for swelling. “I used to have bad dreams, too.”
He hadn’t known she knew about the dreams and attempted to cover his shock. He watched the care she put into cleaning the wound while trying not to cause him further pain. Some of her hair had come out of the large bun she wore at the base of her neck. He had the urge to brush the hair behind her ear. Her skin looked so smooth, so soft.
She glanced up once or twice, but never made contact with his eyes. After cleaning the wound, she applied a poultice.
“I have something for you. Have a seat. I hope Brave Heart doesn’t get upset about this, but here.” He handed her the picture. “It’s my peace offering.”
She dried her hands off on her pants and pulled up a chair. Her eyes grew with surprise, then filled with tears. She glided her fingers over the picture, careful not to smear it. “Ma…” A tear dropped from her eye.
Jared didn’t know what to do. He wanted to give her a gift, but gave her pain. “Joy.”
“Thank you. I’ve never had… I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier. I was upset.”
He was sorry he made her cry. Could he do anything right where she was concerned? “No. I was wrong. I really didn’t mean to push you. I should have apologized immediately.”
“I’ll be right back.” She placed the picture on the table and headed for the door.
He longed to comfort her, but it wasn’t his place. “Where is Brave Heart?”
She turned to him with a coy grin tipping her lips, and for the first time in a long time, he knew all was good in the world. She finished putting on her coat and wrapped her head and face with a scarf. “Brave Heart is here.” She left.
He figured she must have thought Brave Heart returned when she was out. He picked up the portrait. He’d only drawn her face and written Joy under it. He knew she couldn’t read because she thought the portrait was of her mother.
The picture looked incomplete to him. In the upper right corner, he drew Joy with her scarf covering everything, but her eyes. She had the most expressive eyes he’d ever seen.
Her deep, rich, mocha eyes were all he could think about. He needed to change his train of thought. She belonged to Brave Heart, and he’d never move in on another man’s woman. He began drawing Brave Heart in the lower left-hand corner.
As he drew Brave Heart’s eyes, his hand began to shake. This couldn’t be. He thought back to every time he saw Brave Heart. All he’d ever seen of him was his eyes. Joy’s eyes. Brave Heart wasn’t a small brave, but a gorgeous, black woman.
Why hadn’t she let him know? That was easy to answer. She didn’t trust him, and why should she? Did she live by herself? Where was her father, husband, someone? How could a woman survive winter alone? She’d said her father would kill him on sight. When would he return? Where was her brother and why was he Indian?
Jared wasn’t afraid of confronting her father. He was growing stronger by the minute and could handle himself. He had an overwhelming urge to protect Joy. He would stick around until her father returned. In the meantime, he’d teach her to read and that not all white men were bad. Hopefully, her father wasn’t the type to shoot first and ask questions later.
Chapter Four
After supper, Joy handed Jared a sketchpad and pencil. “The rains won’t stop for a few days. You can have these. It will give you something to do during the day.”
“I don’t want to use up your supplies.”
She pushed them at him. “Take them.”
Just starting to make headway, he didn’t wish to set things back. “Thank you.” He opened to the first page and wrote her name, then turned the sketchpad for her to see. “You’re name looks nice in both print and cursive. Not like mine.” He wrote his name and showed it to her.
She barely glanced at the names. “I can draw, but nowhere near as well as you.” She took her sketchpad off the counter, returned to her chair and thumbed through the pictures. “I drew these over the summer, but I haven’t had time to draw lately with getting ready for winter and all.” She began drawing a picture of his leg in the splint.
He smiled inside. He’d found a subject they could discuss without fighting. Knowing she’d be insulted if he blurted out he was teaching her to read, he replied, “I’m sure you could.” He drew small pictures of woodland creatures all over the page, labeled each one, tore out the page and handed it to her. “Here you go. You can have it.”
He took the page back and wrote Brave Heart. “Why were you in the woods alone, Brave Heart?”
The corners of her lips inched up and tripped his heart. “I was beginning to think you’d never figure it out.”
He caught her looking at him, and his soul warmed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know until this morning when you said you needed to apologize to my friend.”
He chuckled. “I thought you were trying to trick me.”
“I’m not like that,” she said calmly.
“No, you’re not.” He could see her honest and fair qualities in everything she did. Even though he knew she stored hostility toward whites, she took excellent care of him, showing just how good of a person she was. “I need to tell you something.” He set the pencil on the table and t
ried to look into her eyes. She focused on everything in the room, except his eyes. Her refusal to look into them confused and miffed him, yet he still wanted to help her. “I want to teach you how to read.” She didn’t say a word. “Did you hear me? I’d like to teach you how to read. It is the least I can do for your saving my life.”
She covered her mouth with her hands and giggled. The giggle quickly grew into much more. He had never heard a sweeter sound. Her laugh came from her gut, but it was still light. She laughed so hard it brought tears to her eyes. Soon he found himself chuckling. “What’s so funny?”
“You,” she pointed at him “want to teach me,” she pointed at herself, “how to read.” She leaned back in her chair with such a full laugh her stomach had to feel like it would burst.
He found it incredibly hard to be serious with her laughing at him. “Reading is very important. When your father comes back, he’ll be proud of you.” The room suddenly became cold with the stop of her laughter.
“My father is never coming back.” She walked out without her coat.
He’d done it again. Would he ever do anything right where she was concerned? Her parents must have left her to fend for herself. How could they do that? He couldn’t leave her alone. She saved his life, and now he would educate her so she could leave the mountain and take care of herself.
Joy had been able to walk off her anger earlier, and she hoped walking would clear her mind this time. The battle brewing within her, between pushing Jared away emotionally and allowing him closer, warred viciously. The sincerity in everything he said didn’t match what Lucas had told her about white men. Could anyone be that deceptive? Then there was her body. She hated yet loved the way her body reacted when he was near. While changing his bandage, she had glanced up a few times—sure not to look into his eyes. Her body warmed and her heart raced.
She didn’t like being attracted to this man. No good could come from it. He was white after all. She’d had to force herself to focus on cleaning his wounds and applying a poultice. He had a warm aura about him. She decided his aura must be what she was drawn to and not him.
Journey's End Page 3
