Love and Cherish

by Dorothy Garlock

  “I ain’t shore it’ll be fit fer the dogs then.” Juicy chuckled, then sobered and put his fingers beneath her chin. “Hit were the best feed I’ve had in many a year, little purty. Yo’re pure-dee ol’ hickory, is what ya are.”

  “Thank you. I’ll miss you,” she whispered.

  “Me’n True’ll be jist a holler away.”

  “I know.” Cherish saw Sloan watching her and Juicy and went to the door to say good-bye to Mister Swanson and Farrway.

  True offered to come back and sit the night with Pierre. He and Sloan talked it over and decided that Pierre would probably sleep the night through, and Sloan could check on him from time to time.

  Cherish put away the remainder of the food stuff. Darkness came suddenly and she lit the lamp. Sitting beside Pierre, Sloan held the sleeping Orah Delle in his arms. Cherish took her to the other room, undressed her, sat her on the chamber pot and urged her to let water. Afterward she put her in her sleeping garment and tucked her in her crib. She loved and kissed her and wondered how such a darling child could have been born to such a woman as Ada.

  With the cleanup still to do, Cherish began the chore. Katherine came silently from the shadows to help her. They had been working only a few minutes when Ada spoke from where she sat by the fire, her voice cold and demanding.

  “Where are my boxes, Kat?”

  The girl jumped nervously. Cherish watched her with a sinking heart.

  “They are by the door, Mistress Carroll.” Katherine’s voice was steady though her chin quivered.

  “Take them to the other room. I presume that’s where I’ll be sleeping.”

  “Yes, Mistress Carroll.” As Katherine passed her, Cherish could see the naked fear in the girl’s eyes.

  Sloan was there ahead of her when she reached the pile of boxes beside the door. He picked them up, leaving the small satchel for Katherine to carry. Walking purposefully into the bedroom, he set the boxes down heavily on the floor and returned to sit beside Pierre. Katherine stayed in the bedroom.

  Perhaps a half-hour passed. Cherish went on with her work, her nerves taut, her stomach churning with tension. Ada sat in the chair by the fire, her feet and legs drawn up under her skirt, her chin resting on the heel of her hand. Presently she got up and walked slowly into the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her.

  Cherish felt uneasy being on this side of the closed door with Orah Delle and Katherine on the other side with Ada. Sloan did not seem to notice that she had left the room. He sat in a chair beside Pierre, elbows on his knees, flexing his fingers tensely. Cherish hurried to finish her tasks, thinking that she might have a few minutes alone with him.

  From the bedroom she could hear Ada’s voice, though not what she was saying. She heard Katherine’s brief, “Yes, Mistress Carroll.” Then there was silence.

  Cherish continued her work. Then suddenly she was jerked quiveringly alert, caught by an odd, steadily repeated sound that she couldn’t identify coming from the bedroom. Then she heard a low, agonized moan, and in a moment of horrible revelation, she knew what the sound was. The regular fall of a strap.

  In seconds she was at the door, but Sloan was already there and had thrown it open. White with a rising fury, he sprang into the room, grabbed the strap from Ada’s hand and shoved her hard against the wall. In the flickering light of the candles they saw Katherine on her knees beside the washstand, dressed only in her thin shift, her skirt stuffed in her mouth to muffle her cries, her arms folded to protect her face.

  Cherish was beside her in a moment, gently disengaging her arms, lifting her to her feet, murmuring:

  “Oh, my dear, my dear. Oh, my dear Katherine.”

  She turned the girl to face her and her heart rose in her throat. Across Katherine’s face, down her cheek and over her lips, was an inch-wide red welt. Her lips had already started to swell. She tried to turn away to hide her shame.

  “I’m all right,” she whispered frantically. “Please, ma’am, leave me be. It will only make it worse for me if you don’t.”

  Ada was leaning against the wall where Sloan had flung her. She had a smile on her face and her eyes glittered with excitement. Sloan faced her, the strap still in his hand.

  “If you ever do such a thing again, Ada, you’ll get some of what you were giving that poor girl.” His angry voice reverberated about the room.

  “I do believe you mean that, darlin’,” she purred, her face radiant, her eyes shining.

  “I mean it! If you so much as lay a hand on that girl, you’ll wish you hadn’t.”

  “You’re tempting me, darlin’,” she taunted. “You’re tempting me to see just how far you would go. Would you beat me?”

  Ada was enjoying the situation she had created. Watching her, Cherish had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She shuddered.

  Sloan’s voice changed, becoming softer—and deadlier.

  “No, I wouldn’t soil my hands with you. I’d just push you out into the snow and bar the door. It would only take a few hours for you to freeze to death.” He tilted his head and looked at her, his eyes as cold as a frozen pond. “Don’t fool yourself in believing you’d get any help from the men in the other cabin either. They’d just as soon see you drawn and quartered.”

  The smile left her face. “A lot of people know I’m here. A lot of people know that I’ve made this perilous journey just to get my child.” She walked over to the crib where, luckily, a tired Orah Delle was sleeping. “She’s the picture of you, Sloan. The ‘spittin’ image’ as they say.” She laughed. “Deny that if you can.”

  Sloan went to the fireplace and threw the strop in the flames. As he turned to leave the room he spoke in a commanding tone.

  “Leave this door open. Do you understand?”

  “Of course, darlin’,” Ada said sweetly. “In case you want to come to me in the night you don’t want a squeaking door to contend with. I can remember when it took much more than a squeaking door to discourage your . . . wanderings.” She laughed again as Sloan charged out of the room.

  Shaken by what Ada had implied, Cherish went to the wardrobe and took out a clean dress and a baglike sleeping garment she had made for herself, copying from the one the slave woman had made for Orah Delle. With her eyes, she begged Katherine to leave the room with her, but the girl only shook her head.

  CHAPTER

  * 18 *

  Cherish finished the cleanup, and when Sloan put on his coat to go outside, she hurriedly extinguished the lamp. In the light from the fireplace she washed herself, used the chamber pot and prepared for bed.

  As she sat on the bunk at the far end of the room and brushed her hair, her mind whirled with unpleasant thoughts, and her heart filled with jealous suspicion. Had there been something between Sloan and his brother’s wife? She could not believe it, did not want to believe it. And yet, there was Orah Delle, who was the mirror image of Sloan. And, of course, if he’d had an affair with Ada, he would want to hide it, would not want anyone to know that he had betrayed his brother.

  How can a person be so happy one day and so miserable the next? she asked herself. Now in the back of her mind she fervently wished she had agreed to marry Sloan when they met the preacher on the trail. But, her common sense argued, a few words spoken by a stranger would not hold him if he wished to be with someone else.

  Sloan came back into the room, bringing with him the taste of cold tangy air. He hung his coat on the peg and went to the washstand. After washing his face and hands, he took a long drink of water. Cherish watched him take a log from the stack by the wall and drop it on the hot coals. Sparks danced about merrily before disappearing up the chimney.

  Cherish didn’t dare believe that he would come to her with Ada in the next room, but she hoped that he would, and, by doing so, reassure her, driving the ugly thoughts from her mind. He stood with head bent for a long moment, the picture of utter dejection, then crossed the room to where she sat on the bunk and held out his hand.

  He led her to th
e fur-lined chair, sat down and pulled her down into his lap. Cherish sighed contentedly, worry pushed to the back of her mind for the moment. She lay perfectly still against him and let the pleasure of his warm body, his scent, the safety of his arms flow through her. Nothing else mattered but this. Nothing at all.

  He leaned his cheek against her hair and slipped his warm, rough hand inside the sleeve of her robe to caress the smooth skin of her back.

  “You were wonderful today. I was proud.” His words came out on a breath of a whisper.

  “It was . . . difficult.”

  “I know.” He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering there.

  “I’ve never met anyone like . . . her.”

  “You should be grateful for that.”

  “I am. Oh, Sloan, how long will she stay?”

  “I don’t know, love. If a boat comes upriver before the freeze, I’ll put her on it, if I have to break both of her legs.”

  “And if not, she’ll be here all winter.”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Couldn’t she stay in . . . the other cabin?”

  There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “If I insist that she move over there, she’ll take the babe just for spite. Not that she wants her.”

  “Orah Delle would be frantic. It would be terribly frightening for her. She’s not used to strangers. And, I don’t think Ada knows how to take care of a baby. Katherine might, if Ada would let her.”

  “Ada not only doesn’t know how, she doesn’t want to learn. Give me some time, sweetheart. I’ll work something out.”

  He kissed her nose, then her lips. She moved her arm up and around his neck and clung to him.

  “Sloan,” she whispered, “I can hardly stand the way she treats Katherine. Can’t we do something for the girl? I’m sure she’s in love with Pierre.”

  “He loves her too. He told me so and asked me to look after her. He called Ada a sow. To a Frenchman that’s about as low as a woman can get.”

  Cherish could feel his chest move against her breasts when he chuckled.

  “I can hear him saying that. It would be funny if it weren’t so serious.”

  “We’ll not have much time alone now. Let’s not waste this time talking about her. Kiss me, sweetheart.”

  Her mouth lifted to his. He kissed her. And if ever there had been another thought in either of their heads, it was gone the instant their mouths met and clung. Passion surged through them. He drank deeply of her sweetness before he lifted his head and gazed down at her. Cherish let out a little whimper of yearning and reached for his lips again.

  He smiled down at her. Her heart stumbled and her mind went blank. His mouth came down. She opened her lips so that he could kiss her the way he had done the night before when they lay closely entwined in her bunk.

  Somehow he managed to whisper her name. “Cherish, Cherish, love—”

  He caught her bottom lip between his teeth and nipped it gently. Live sparks shot through her when he pinched the tight tip of her breast. Everything he did made her want more, and what she wanted now was for them to lie naked together in her bunk, and for him to fill her with his magnificence.

  The ugliness of the day rolled away and was lost. In its place rose a tide of love, strong and sweet—

  The moment was abruptly shattered.

  “Isn’t this sort of thing rather tame for you, Sloan?” Ada’s voice, soft and mocking, came out of the shadows.

  Cherish felt Sloan’s body jerk and stiffen. “Damn!” He took a deep breath and held still.

  “Where’s the Indian girl? Minnie Dove? Are you tired of her already? Tut, tut, Sloan. Under the bushes and against a tree is more your style than this.” She laughed, a false tinkling sound. “When you get tired diddling the nursemaid, you know where you can find someone more accomplished . . . someone who knows what you like.”

  Sloan hadn’t moved, hadn’t turned his head, hadn’t breathed. But his voice, when he spoke, told Cherish he was making an enormous effort at self-control.

  “Get out of here, Ada.”

  The soft laughter came again. “I’m going, darlin’. I’m going. You’ll remember what I said . . . won’t you?”

  They continued to sit by the fire after Ada had gone, but it wasn’t the same. Sloan tilted her face up and kissed her soundly, not speaking.

  I love you, she told him in her thoughts.

  He rested his cheek against hers.

  “Sweet Cherish—” he muttered.

  She hoped he wouldn’t say anything, because if he did she would cry. He didn’t. After a while she moved off his lap and went back to her bunk.

  Sickening doubts assailed her again, thoughts of what Ada kept hinting about herself and Sloan, and now Sloan and Minnie Dove.

  When at last Cherish fell asleep it was to dream of a child and Sloan. This time the child had black button eyes and black braids and wore a beaded Indian dress.

  * * *

  She woke early. Sloan was already up, fully dressed, putting wood on the fire. The flames leaped and snapped and flickered in the darkness of the room. Cherish lay and watched him until he put on his coat and went outside. She swung her feet to the floor and dressed swiftly in the semi-darkness just as the clock finished striking for the fifth time. She lit a candle and took it to the table beside Pierre’s bed.

  Sloan came in with an armload of wood. “He had a restless night. He needs food.”

  Cherish thought for a moment. “My papa used to make a broth from fresh meat and feed it to someone who had lost a lot of blood. He called it ‘meat tea.’ I can make it using the meat in the smokehouse, but I’d rather have fresh.”

  “I’ll get fresh meat, but in the meantime we need to feed him something.”

  “Do you think he could swallow bread, if I toasted it, buttered it and soaked it in warm milk?”

  “He needs something in his stomach. We’ll have to give it a try. I’ll get yesterday’s milk from the cellar. True will milk come daylight.”

  Pierre grimaced painfully when Sloan placed another pillow under his head. The big Frenchman opened his eyes and looked past Sloan to where Cherish stood with the bowl of bread and milk. His eyes clung to her.

  “Katherine—?”

  Cherish moved forward and bent down. “Katherine is sleeping, Pierre. How are you feeling?”

  It seemed to take all his strength to say: “I’m hungry.”

  “Good. I’ll make a strong meat broth later, but now I want you to eat this.”

  He made an effort to keep his eyes open while she spooned the soft bread into his mouth, but finally he gave up and closed them. He ate almost all the bread and milk before he fell asleep.

  Cherish went to where Sloan stood by the mantel, gazing down at the teakettle he had swung over the flames. “Have you thought of something to do about . . . her?” she asked.

  He was silent for so long that Cherish began to feel uncomfortable.

  “I’ve done nothing but think about it the whole night through,” he said at last with a deep sigh. “If she goes to the other cabin, she’ll take Orah Delle with her. Another thing, she’d have to have a man over there from time to time and . . . through the night to tend the fire. And there’s Katherine. I promised Pierre that I would look out for her. I don’t know if he’s in love with her or not, but he’s concerned about her. And after what happened last night it’s important that she stay here.” He put his arm around Cherish. “It’ll be hard on you, and I’m sorry for it. But I just can’t let Ada get her hands on Orah Delle. I just can’t!”

  Cherish nodded unhappily. “I understand. I agree about the baby. We couldn’t possibly let her go to Ada.”

  Sloan pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  Cherish felt a stab of guilt: how could she have doubted him? How could she ever believe that he and Ada—? But even as she asked herself the question, she knew that the suspicion was still there.

  Cherish moved around the
room as quietly as possible, making tea and mush, setting out bread, butter and molasses. Sloan ate silently, and when he finished, he put on his coat, took his rifle down from the pegs and left the cabin.

  When Katherine suddenly appeared beside her, Cherish was so startled she almost dropped the crock she was carrying. The girl glanced fearfully toward the open door of the bedroom before she spoke.

  “How is he?”

  “Pierre is going to be all right,” Cherish assured her. “He ate a bowl of bread and milk this morning, and Sloan has gone out to get fresh meat so I can make him a broth.”

  “Thank God! And . . . thank you!” She was almost weeping with relief.

  “Isn’t there anything I can do for you, Katherine?” Cherish asked quickly. “I don’t see how you can—”

  “There’s nothing, ma’am. Please don’t try to help me. It just makes her . . . meaner. Pierre was going to get me away from her. He would have, but now—Oh, ma’am, I think she’s mad!” She slipped away and was back in the bedroom before Cherish could say more.

  The morning was not as unpleasant as Cherish had anticipated. She went into the bedroom and took Orah Delle from her crib the minute she awakened and called to her. She dressed her and had given her her breakfast before Ada appeared. The woman ignored Cherish as if she weren’t there and ordered Katherine to serve her meal.

  Holding Orah Delle, Cherish went to sit beside Pierre in order to get as far away from Ada as possible. It was obvious to Cherish that Ada had taken special pains with her appearance that morning. Her dress was a soft, finely woven wool that fit snugly at the waist and flared out behind her when she walked. Cream lace edged the high neck and the cuffs that hugged her slim wrists. At her throat was a cameo pinned to a dark-blue velvet ribbon. Her blond hair was piled high on her head, with finger curls cascading down over her ears to frame her face.

  She was the loveliest woman Cherish had ever seen. An agony of apprehension seized her. This woman who was so beautiful was also cunning, sly, unscrupulous, and—Cherish was sure—determined to have Sloan.