“Pa.” Matt reined his mount alongside. “Would it be all right if I go with Mr. Kinyon? Maybe learn somethin’ more about trackin’?”
The idea didn’t appeal much to John. He’d just gotten home again. Besides, it was a couple of frontiersmen who had somehow managed to lose Lily.
“I’ll see the boy comes to no harm,” Nate said.
“All right. But, Matt, do exactly what Nate tells you, you hear?” With that, John heeled his mount into a trot ahead of them. The sooner he reached the second brook, the sooner he could start searching in earnest for Lily. Still, he couldn’t deny that, in this vast wilderness, the chances of finding her were slim. She could be anywhere.
Setting his jaw with determination, he vowed to maintain hope. No one had spoken the words, but he refused even to venture anywhere near the thought that Indians had captured her. Not his sweet Lily. He would find her…or die trying.
Chapter 19
John reined Smokey to a stop when he reached the Swatara. The tall trees edging the far shore were outlined with waning sunlight, and their shadows stretched across the water, making a deceptively beautiful scene. But this was not a time to appreciate God’s handiwork. The sun would soon set, and Lily was still out there somewhere. He’d searched through the woods and along the creek trace for hours and hadn’t found a single footprint that wasn’t pocked by yesterday’s rain. This area north of Beaver Creek was too rugged for settling. He had yet to pass a farmstead, so there was no place Lily might have gone for help if she was wandering lost out here. The weight of his discouragement pressed hard upon him.
Where was she?
He tried to fortify himself with the possibility that Reynolds and the Dunlaps might have already found her and were returning with her to the cove.
The sound of distant hoofbeats coming at a trot from along the trace fell on his ears. Nate and Matt must have finished searching their section and were on their way to the next one. Nate probably wanted to scour one more area before darkness set in. John waited for the pair, eager to find out if they’d come across any sign of Lily.
Within seconds the two came into view around a curve.
John waved, and his son returned a smile and a happy wave. The bittersweet sight was one more reminder of how much he had missed his children, missed being there to share their joys and triumphs, their hurts and sorrows. Two more months, and his enlistment would be up. He’d come home to them for good then—providing they still had a home left to come home to.
Despite the optimism in Matt’s expression, John could tell by Nate’s demeanor they’d found nothing. He spread his arms with a disappointed shrug.
Nate halted next to John’s mount and spoke in a quiet tone. “How far d’ya think we covered?”
“Eight, maybe nine miles. Sound about right to you?”
“Hard to tell. Thought me an’ Matt would go up an’ over one more hill then call it a night. We’ll meet ya at the next stream an’ camp there—unless you’d rather head on home. I’ll leave it to you.”
John had never felt so helpless or defeated, but he couldn’t give up yet. “I want to keep going for a while.”
Nate reached over a big hand and gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “I’m sure Lily couldn’t vanish into thin air. Either Reynolds or us’ll find somethin’ soon.”
An unwanted mental picture of Lily lying dead, her body broken and bleeding, tore at John’s mind. “I told her not to come back. I told her.”
“That’s all right, Pa.” Matt edged his horse nearer. “Lily’s as brave as the rest of us. She learned to shoot real straight, and she never backed down at strange noises. Fact is, when me an’ Luke was out away from the house doin’ chores, she liked callin’ us the Rogers’ Rangers of Waldon Place. You know, after them rangers up in New York. They really know how to fight the Indians.”
John nodded, knowing those men fighting with the English against the French and Indians had provided the bulk of the colonies’ paltry victories.
“If we had more fightin’ units like them,” Nate added, “this war would’a been over a long time ago, ‘stead a draggin’ on like it is. Worst of all, it’s us folks along the frontiers payin’ the price, while them English generals dally around cozy an’ safe, surrounded by thousands of soldiers.” He popped a curious grin. “I say after we run them Frenchies outta here, let’s do the same with them useless Brits.”
John slanted a gaze his way. It was a radical idea, but it might make for an interesting conversation some other day. He exhaled a tired breath. “Well, reckon I’ll ride up to the next stream and check it out. See you there in a while.”
Moments later, as John skirted the outside of a large bend in the creek edged by a sizable hill, he realized he had yet to pass an inlet. With Nate and Matt taking a roundabout route, they wouldn’t reach the next section till well after dark. He slowed Smokey almost to a stop. Maybe he should ride back and find them. The spot where they’d met awhile ago would do for the night.
“John?”
Startled, he peered up the wooded rise. Nate couldn’t have caught up so soon.
“John, is that you?”
His heart jolted. A woman’s voice!
Lily! Suddenly there she was, breaking past some brush high above him, half running, half sliding, as she scurried down the steep incline to him. Relief engulfed John. He leaped off his mount and started to climb up to her—then remembered the signal. He stopped and turned back, yanking his weapon from its scabbard. Hands shaking, he sprinkled black powder in the flashpan and fired the ball into the air—the loud, joyous announcement echoing across the river and back.
By the time he jammed the rifle back into its sheath and turned around, Lily, crying and laughing at once, ran into his arms.
He caught hold of her so quickly he banged his head on her musket barrel. But he couldn’t have cared less. She was here, and she was…unharmed?
Easing her to arm’s length and looking through a sheen of moisture blurring his vision, he took an assessing look. Her hair, matted and tangled, lacked its usual golden highlights. Her tattered gown was a pitiful mess of wrinkles and stains and soils. Her arms, dirtier than he’d ever seen them, were a map of scratches, scabs, and insect bites—and she’d never looked more heart-stoppingly beautiful. Noticing the muddy traces her tears were carving down her face, he took out his kerchief and dabbed at them. “I was so worried. Thank God I found you.”
Then with an unexpected flash of anger, he tightened his hold on her shoulders and gave her a shake. “Why did you have to come back? I told you it was too dangerous.”
“I…” She swallowed hard and gazed up at him, all hurt and helpless, dissolving away all his ire.
He cupped her sweet face in his palms and searched deeply into her eyes. “You had me worried out of my mind,” he murmured. He brushed his lips across a nasty scratch on her cheek, then kissed another. Then he kissed her eyes with their tear-spiked lashes, tasting her salty tears. “I could’ve lost you, too.”
“I had to come back.”
Her voice was so choked with emotion, it ripped at his heart. He drew her closer, and his lips found hers. He felt her meld to him, and he couldn’t help himself. He cupped the back of her head and deepened the kiss.
Lily emitted a throaty moan, and her weapon dropped to the ground as she wrapped her arms around him, making his heart ache with profound joy.
She was here.
He tightened his embrace. Vaguely, the pounding of horse hooves knocked at the edges of his mind.
“What the blazes is goin’ on here!” Nate shouted. He skidded his mount to a halt.
Lily gave a shuddering breath and pushed away from John, her eyes flaring wide.
He didn’t completely release her but heeled around.
Nate glared down at him from atop his tall horse. “I hope you ain’t been toyin’ around with my sister-in-law all this time.”
Mortified beyond words, Lily stepped away from John and almost tr
ipped over her fallen musket, compounding her embarrassment. Quickly she snatched it up. How could she have taken such gross advantage of him by turning his welcoming kiss into one of her deep passion for him!
And to think Rose’s husband had witnessed her disgraceful conduct! She felt her face redden.
“Lily! You’re alive!” Matt hopped down from his horse, the presence of the lad adding even more misery. He had to have seen it all as well. But he threw his arms around her with the same fervor his father had done. “Nobody said it, but we were all afraid you was dead.” He gave her a smacking kiss on her cheek. “We been prayin’ our heads off that we’d find you safe. Right, Pa?”
“Yes, Son. We sure have.” John’s words came from right behind her as he stepped close again.
“Enough chit-chat.” Nate cleared his throat. “I still want an answer. What’s been goin’ on betwixt the two of ya?”
John rested a hand softly on her shoulder. “There is nothing going on, and no fault to be found in this wonderful lass. She’s never been anything but pure and true. I was just so glad to find her, to know the Indians hadn’t dragged her off to…” His face heated, and he lowered his gaze to the ground.
The dear man was defending her, taking the blame for her inexcusable actions. Mustering her courage, Lily raised her gaze to her brother-in-law. “If there’s any blame here, Nate, it is rightfully mine. I was so overwhelmed and thrilled to be rescued, I’m afraid I lost all sense of decorum. I assure you, I shall not thrust myself on poor John in that fashion again.”
Rose’s husband looked from her to John and back and broke into a grin. He spread his arms. “Then come here an’ give this ol’ hunter a hug. I been mighty worried about ya myself.”
Vastly relieved he was willing to overlook her indiscretion, Lily gladly accepted his welcoming embrace. Then he held her away a bit and regarded her. “Ya come mighty close to getting caught by them Delaware, ya know.”
She nodded. “Three times. There were two groups of them. When I thought I was safe from the ones who took the horses, another bunch ran past. Thank God they never noticed my tracks. I truly believe the Lord blinded their eyes, because they crossed right over my footprints without stopping to search for me. And then to stumble upon John…”
Having remained behind her, John put an arm around her again and drew her close. “Well, you’re safe now. We’ll have you home in a couple hours.”
Her expression flattened. “You mean I’m still two hours away? By horseback? I thought once I finally reached the creek I wouldn’t have far to go.”
A gentle smile curved his lips. “The Swatara starts turning more to the north up this way. Makes it a longer hike.”
With a resigned nod, Lily looked at Matthew and smiled. “I see you brought Matt along. But where’s Luke? Is he safe?”
Nate answered. “The boy’s stayin’ with Virge Stewart at your place.”
“Mr. Stewart is at the cabin?” Lily stepped out of John’s hold. “God is so good. I thought for sure my frontier guides had been killed. What about Mr. Reynolds?”
“He’s fine,” John said from behind her.
Matt sidled up to her. “Him an’ the Dunlap boys headed back to where they left you, hopin’ you’d made it to the Palmyra stockade by now. Him an’ Stewart never could pick up your trail. You covered your tracks real good.”
Cupping his face, Lily tipped her head and drank in the sight of him. “I did my best, just like you taught me.” She then lifted her gaze to Nate. “By the by, I don’t suppose any of you happened to bring along any food. I’ve had nothing to eat since yesterday.”
“Sure did.” Matt ran to Smokey’s saddlebag and pulled out something wrapped in cloth. He handed it to her. “I cooked this last night for supper. Hope it’s not too dried out.”
Even before she unfolded the cloth, she could smell the delicious meat through the fabric. At least half a chicken lay in her hands. She squealed and barely managed to thank him before biting into a drumstick.
“Well…” Nate peered up at the darkening sky. “Best we git goin’. Lily can eat on the way. An’ she should ride up behind the boy, to even out the weight on the horses.” He darted a meaningful glance at John.
Lily realized the man was still blaming John for the kiss that was so passionate her lips still tingled. Perhaps she should divert him. After her brother-in-law hoisted her up behind Matt she turned to him. “By what miracle are you and John here?”
John hooked the bar that held the kettle of boiling water over the flames and swung it within reach as his sons brought in two more buckets of water. Using a pad, he lifted the kettle off the heat and trailed after them to Lily’s room. It had been after nine when they’d arrived at the cabin, but Lily said she couldn’t possibly go to bed filthy. These last batches of water should be enough.
For himself, he’d go down to the creek with Matt and Luke. Neither of them smelled any better than he did. He wondered if they’d bothered to bathe even once since Lily left for Philadelphia.
As the two emerged from her bedchamber with the empty buckets, John carried the kettle in. He found her standing before the looking glass, brushing the twigs and tangles from her surprisingly long tresses.
She glanced briefly at his reflection. “I’m such a horrid mess.”
He wanted to tell her she was the most beautiful mess he’d ever seen. She hadn’t worn her hair down for years, so he had no idea it flowed so far down her back. He resisted blurting out the compliment and substituted one less personal. “A warm soak and a good night’s rest will put you to rights again, I’m sure.”
“John?”
He met her image in the glass.
“Thank you.” Having spoken quietly, she continued to occupy herself with her hair.
He noticed that a bar of the perfumed soap she used lay on a chair next to the tub, along with some towels. The items sent his mind in a dangerous direction. Heat from the kettle’s handle began to radiate through the cloth, reminding him he had yet to empty the contents into the waiting tub. Steam billowed upward as he quickly dispensed the hot water. “I’ll be taking the boys with me down to the creek for a good scrubbing. That way we’ll all smell like roses in the morning.”
Lily turned toward him. “One doesn’t realize how dear the little niceties are until one is without them.”
“Them and food,” he teased, grinning. He remembered how she’d devoured the chicken they’d brought with them.
She treated him to a bit of a smile. “Yes. And food.”
Her smile, her eyes, her presence gave his heart a jolt. Time to get out of here. Reluctantly he started backing out of the room. “Well, I’d best get after those boys of mine.” Stepping across the threshold, he closed the door. Closing himself out.
Seconds passed before it dawned on him he was just standing there staring at the door. He turned away, only to find Nate glowering at him from across the room.
“Me an’ you need to talk,” the big man said.
Chapter 20
Not a sound issued from the loft after Matt and Luke, bathed and utterly spent, climbed into their beds. Virgil Stewart apparently had no such leanings toward cleanliness. He used his injured arm as an excuse to avoid washing his rank self in the creek. Even now he lay in John’s bed, smelling up the entire room.
John was disgusted that Lily would have to rewash the bedding she’d left clean for his use. But with her kind spirit, she’d always do what needed to be done. In any event, there was no need for anyone in the house—particularly her—to hear whatever Nate had to say to him. He handed Lily’s brother-in-law a cup of tea. “Why don’t we go sit on the porch?”
“Sounds good to me.” Nate led the way outside and took the far chair, stretching his long legs out before him as he sipped from his mug. “It’s September already. Won’t be havin’ too many more porch-sittin’ nights this year, I ‘spect.”
“No, reckon not.”
Not far away, a pair of bullfrogs croaked ba
ck and forth, joined by sporadic hoots from an owl and the rhythmic chirping of crickets.
It seemed Nate was going to start with pleasantries, so John took a moment to gaze up at the brilliant stars sparkling like diamonds against the blue velvet sky.
“Me an’ Bob Bloom, we been gone from home since April. We’ve run for our lives out there more’n once. Sure hate the thought of never getting to see my little ones again, or my own Rose of Sharon.”
Studying Nate’s profile in the starlight, John sighed. “I know. It’s stone-hard. I wish we could make a separate peace with the Indians, separate from the British, I mean.”
“Won’t happen. Not as long as the French keep dolin’ out goodies to the tribes. The Indians want easy access to European trade goods, an’ if they have to spill a little blood to get ’em, they will. The tribes been raidin’ one another for supplies an’ slaves for centuries. It’s a way of life with ’em.”
John mulled over the words and nodded. “Well then, I hope the British navy is doing a better job of blocking the mouth of the St. Lawrence River than our English generals are doing out in the field. Looks like our best hope is in stopping French supplies from coming in altogether.”
Nate huffed through his nose. “Some inglorious way that’d be to win a war.”
Taking a sip of tea, John grunted his agreement. “All I know is I’ll do my family far more good by leaving Fort Henry in November. I was wrong to leave them here alone.”
“Speakin’ of that…” Nate turned to John. The inquisition was about to start. “No self-respectin’ man would go off an’ leave his wife’s baby sister here in a situation like ya have here these days, neither.”
“You’re absolutely right.” John suddenly refused to let the man continue on to where he was headed. The subject was far too painful. “I’ve decided to send Lily and my boys downriver this time. It’s obvious I can’t protect them from a distance.”
Daughters of Harwood House Trilogy : Three Romances Tell the Saga of Sisters Sold into Indentured Service (9781630586140) Page 79
