Passion's Series

by Adair, Mary

  It did little good knowing the origin of his anger, knowing he had allowed a man he had never met, a man who never wanted to meet him, to lay out his path. He'd lived with his rage for too long. A furious need for vengeance consumed his thoughts and dictated his actions. His quest for retribution had become his trusted companion.

  "It's late," Dawn's voice cut into his thoughts. "Raven, do you hear me? It's late, the horses are tired." Dawn turned her mount and rode deeper into the forest.

  Raven followed at a slower pace, allowing her to ride into a thicket and out of sight. He waited patiently, giving her a moment of privacy.

  How could he explain his desperation and fury to her? How could she understand? She had two parents who loved and accepted her and a home she could always return to. He was a cast-off. He was a cast-off from his father, a cast-off from his mother, and finally a cast-off from the village.

  The sad call of a whip-poor-will, Dawn's favorite birdcall, reached his ears. He knew she signaled him to follow. He found her in a small clearing near a spring. She had always managed to find the perfect place to camp, even as a child. His gaze inventoried the campsite and returned to Dawn. Just like Dawn, the verdant setting was perfect.

  Water sparkled fresh and clean and the forest canopy offered protection. Foliage beneath their feet grew thick, providing a soft, mossy cushion for their bed. As always, life fell into place for Dawn. He took pleasure in that knowledge. He wanted for her the life he could never have. As much as he wished their paths were one, he could never ask her to join him on the dark road he foresaw as his life.

  Raven watched Dawn remove her bedroll, saddlebags and saddle from her mount. "You shouldn't be traveling like this. You should be in a carriage with Sara or one of the other maids to help you. I should be renting you a room for the evening in an inn where you can rest properly."

  Dawn stopped what she was doing and looked at him in total wonderment. "You are not talking to Marguerite. Remember that I grew up with nature all about me, not in some closed-in, airless little house packed with smelly bodies and the stench of ill-prepared food. How could you imagine I would prefer that over this?"

  She removed her hat and raised her arms to twirl around in a circle. Her hair, having loosened from the confines of pins and the tricorn, dropped about her shoulders in a soft mass of waves and curls. He wished she hadn't cut so much of it off, but it was still the most beautiful hair he'd ever seen, and he wanted to crush it in his hands. He imagined her in her buckskin dress, the evening fog billowing about her ankles as she turned. This was not the mountain home she loved and deserved, but it was beautiful nonetheless. Or was it made so by her presence?

  He concealed the pain in his heart with a smile as he swung down from his mount. "Of course," he answered her. " What could I have been thinking?" But he knew what he'd been thinking. How could he live without her, now that she had re-entered his life? She was the light to his darkness, the one thread that bound him to a life he only envisioned in his dreams. She was his lifeline, yet he would bring her only sadness and an existence away from the people who were the very core of her being.

  It always amazed him, her ability to find peace and joy. Simple things, like the sweet taste of honey, the song of a bird, even the shape of a cloud, were to her the embodiment of pure happiness. His heart ached with need. If only he could be so content within his spirit.

  He knew what he must do. Because he loved her more than life, he had to send her home. He could not expose her to the hell he lived in every day, even if it was a hell of his own making. Or maybe because it was, he had to walk through it alone.

  Fearing his own lack of resolve, he quickly turned to his mount. "I'm glad you chose the campsite for tonight," he said as he unburdened Eagle, and then headed from the clearing. "Keep the fire small, I don't want to attract attention. I'll be back soon with some food."

  "Wait," Dawn called after him, but he was gone. "Oh, Raven." She sighed as she went to her pack and retrieved a sharp knife. She broke a small branch from a tree near the bank and sharpened one end.

  By the time Raven returned she had two large trout simmering in a pot with the small potatoes and sweet onions Cook had so thoughtfully wrapped in a towel and placed in her saddlebag.

  ***

  Becker slowed his mount. "It's late, we should be campin' soon. Are you sure Mr. Cloud didn't recognize you earlier?"

  "Naw, he ain't never meet me before. It's a good thing Miss Dawn didn't spy me though." Little Jack answered.

  Becker reigned his horse and rode off the road. "We should be able to find a good spot off the road a way."

  Little Jack's stomach rumbled when he caught the scent of a campfire and food. "Do ya smell that? I swear my navel's rubbin' my back bone I'm so hungry."

  Becker rubbed his own belly. "Yea, I smell it. Must be Miss Dawn. We don't want ta get too close and tip them off that we're here. Better not light a fire. I got plenty of cheese and bread fer tonight."

  Little Jack followed Becker into the forest. It sure gave him a start when Mr. Cloud backtracked earlier in the day and came across him. It was a good thing he knew these parts and was able to convince Mr. Cloud he was on his way home to Dunmere. That gave him a good excuse to be on the road, but he'd have to make real sure he wasn't spotted again after they passed the cut off to the village.

  "Here's as good a spot as any, I guess." Becker reined in.

  Jack swung down from his mount and struck out to make a quick surveillance of the area. He soon spotted a pond nearby and hurried back to report to Becker. "We'd better move a little further back. There's a pond right past that outcrop of rocks. I'm sure Mr. Cloud and Miss Dawn will be filling their water skins before they pull out in the morning."

  "Good work, Jack. You take our bed rolls back over there a ways while I tend to the horses."

  Little Jack liked the way Becker complemented him when he did well. He guessed of all the men on the Golden Lady he liked Becker the best. Feeling pleased with himself he quickly untied the bedrolls so Becker could lead the horses farther into the forest.

  ***

  "I smelled food cooking." Raven's voice rested gently in Dawn's ear and warmed her soul. She sat back on her haunches and gazed at him.

  "I'm glad it brought you back."

  "I told you I didn't want to draw attention." The tenderness of his tone belied the command of his words. He handed her a piece of honeycomb cradled in a piece of bark, and a bunch of berries he carried in his handkerchief. "I would have brought more, but I didn't want more than the two of us could eat."

  She couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him. "No rabbits to be found?"

  Raven smiled and answered, "Not a one."

  Dawn patted the ground beside her. "Sit."

  Raven ignored her invitation and stepped to the opposite side of the fire. There he sat down across from her.

  She placed a trout along with a warm corn cake on a tin plate and handed it to him. She wished for a breeze as she set the berries and honey to one side, within easy reach. Nestled as they were in the snug little cove, there was little chance the upward drifting smoke would shift in his direction. She shamed herself as she covered a grin by poking a honey-covered fingertip into her mouth. A little smoke in the face would serve him right, she mused.

  They ate in silence, but she knew that Raven watched her every move. She set her bowl aside and rose to her feet. As she turned, Raven reached and took her by the arm. She hadn't realized that he was standing or had moved toward her. Pride in his skill filled her heart.

  "Where are you going?" he asked.

  "Are you afraid I'm going to leave you?" She brushed her palm against his cheek. "I will never leave you."

  Raven placed his hand over hers and squeezed.

  She knew he wanted to pull her to him, to make her a part of him that would be with him always. She watched as he seemed to steel himself to pull her hand away.

  "You must stop saying this, Dawn. As soon as we return
with the herb for Lady Montgomery, I'm sending you home."

  Her eyes searched his face. "Why do you say this?"

  "Because, you belong with your people." His tone was hard and determined.

  "I belong to you." She pushed forward, not believing his words. The heat in his eyes betrayed him. She breathed deeply, smelling the honey on his breath and his own special scent. The memory of his scent had stayed with her through the years of their separation. It had followed her into her dreams. It kept her focused, reminded her that he was her mate forever.

  "We don't belong together, my little sparrow." His voice softened, then hardened again. "You belong with your people. I have my own life, my own path."

  "I do belong to you." A shiver ran through her body. "I see it in your eyes. I hear it in the way you call me your little sparrow. I feel it in your touch. I know your smell. I have chosen you."

  "I have not chosen you, Dawn." He stepped back as if in fear. "You're a beautiful woman." He lifted a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his thumb and fingers. "What you see and feel is a man's reaction to a woman." He let the lock drop from his fingers and moved back another step. "Any woman."

  She tried to hold the pain she felt from showing in her eyes.

  "What you smell is lust," he said. "The way you throw yourself at me, how could you expect anything else?"

  She didn't move, speak or cry out. Instead she stood, her back straight as she looked deep into his eyes and fought to control the trembling of her lip. When he bent to grab his bedroll from where it lay beside hers, she heard him growl. "Be prepared to leave at daybreak." He straightened and strode away from her into the forest, but she had not missed the glistening of tears in his eyes.

  Dawn's fought the urge to run after him. She busied herself with the task at hand. Her quick angry movements cleared the remnants of their meal, but not the turmoil of her thoughts.

  When all was put away save her bedroll, she added a log to the fire. Wrapping her arms tightly about her waist, she lowered herself beside the fire and gave way to her tears. She watched the changing colors of the flames and felt their warmth on her face. ' You belong with your people! His words rang over and over in her mind. She glanced toward the forest where he had disappeared. "Oh, Raven," she whispered. "You may feel separated and alone, but you are not. I am your people and our child will open your eyes to the family you crave."

  She rose and took up her blanket. With a new determination, she followed Raven's path into the forest. She found him just beyond the fire's light. He was leaning against a tree looking up at the stars. She had known he would be close by to watch her. He was as determined to protect her as she was to save him from the evil that threatened to steal him from her.

  She stood at his side. He didn't look at her or acknowledge her presence. She gently wiped a tear from his cheek, then slipped her finger across his cheekbone, under his ear and around his neck.

  Raven turned toward her and slid a hand beneath her blanket to encircle her waist and pull her close. With a groan, he tucked his face into her neck. "I didn't mean the cruel things I said to you. I never do."

  "I know." She wrapped the blanket about them. She felt his tears and his warm breath against her.

  Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. "Why aren't you by the fire where it's warm?"

  She nuzzled closer. "There is no warmth compared to your arms."

  "You must know I'm not for you?" The pain and longing in his voice tugged at her heart.

  "Why?" she asked as she trailed a finger around his ear and along his shoulder.

  She heard his soft chuckle and her skin tingled. He gently pulled her closer and she wondered if he realized that he'd tightened his grip.

  "What is your question?" he asked gently, teasingly. "Why am I not for you, or why should you know?"

  "Both." She pulled his collar down and kissed his neck. "Explain it to me," she whispered. "Then maybe you will hear the foolishness of your words."

  Raven held her away from him, and with a finger under her chin, tilted her head back. He placed his forehead against hers. "I don't know who I am. When I look into your eyes I wonder who you see."

  "I see you, I know you.. .I know who you are." Dawn pressed forward in her desperation to make him understand. The pain of his sadness vibrated through her as strongly as his escalating need.

  "How could you know me when I don't know myself? I can't allow you to make the same mistakes as my mother."

  "Tell me about your mother. Da told me that she was beautiful and that she loved you very much." Dawn's heart ached as his body drew inward, cradling the pain he carried.

  "My memories of my mother are of a beautiful woman, not only in her face but in her spirit as well." He pulled Dawn's head to his chest as he leaned back against the tree. "She came to the post with her father, and while there, she met my father. They staked out a small plot of land near the post, built a cabin and planted a crop. She told me once that they both knew he would return to England some day. But she wanted to be near him as long as she could." His arms tightened about her waist as he gazed at the stars. "Then one day, he received a letter from his mother. She told him that his English wife would soon deliver their first child."

  Dawn's skin tingled as the darkness folded around them. She leaned back so that she could look into Raven's face. "Did your mother tell him about you?" she asked gently.

  "No. I know she hoped he would choose to stay with her."

  "Is that what she told you?"

  "No.'He has responsibilities to his people and his first wife’," he hatefully quoted the excuse Dawn knew he had heard so many times as a boy.

  "How could he do that to her?" he said incredulously, his voice steeped in pain. "How could he tell a woman he loved her...make love to her, change her life forever, then leave her? Your father and Thomas made sure she always had a place at the post," he said with a shrug, "They saw to it that I learned to read and count, but their kindness couldn't take the sadness from my mother's eyes."

  He looked at the stars and shook his head, as if he couldn't believe or understand what motive drove her actions. "She would never speak ill of him. She was kind and gentle and had a love that would last forever. I couldn't stand to see her washing other people's clothes. Cooking for white men who thought she was worth less than the mules that carried their packs. I couldn't stand to watch as her spirit died a slow, lonely death." His voice cracked and he cleared his throat.

  "My mother was thrilled when I decided to go to Chota Town with James." Raven let out an angry snort. "Did you know that I was angry with her for that when I left? Watching her was killing me, but for her to want me to leave..."

  Dawn slowly shook her head in answer.

  "I knew she wanted me to go, to leave the post and her. I accused her of having a man. I accused her of a lot of things. I was angry and I was hurt and I wanted to hurt her as well. I didn't know that the following year she would die of the smallpox." He pulled Dawn against his chest.

  "I was so confused. I wanted to feel like an Indian. I wanted to feel pride in that part of me...to forget the white father I hated. And I tried. Then I received word that my mother was dead. She had died alone. I wasn't there to see the last light in her eyes. I knew at that moment that I was no better than my father."

  The tears on his cheeks glistened in the moonlight. Dawn brushed them away and held his face in her hands. "Your mother walked her path. She did what was right for her...and for you. Do you think that your mother wanted you to leave her? I think she knew it was time for you to start your journey."

  He closed his eyes.

  "I saw you mourn your mother," she continued, "and I heard your sad song. During your quiet time in the cove, I would hide and watch you fight against your pain. I have felt the gentleness of your hands and your heart. You have a path to walk. Your journey has been a hard one, but you don't have to travel it alone. I am with you." She smiled through her own tears. "You could never leave me, Raven. I would
always find you. "

  Raven returned her smile as he lowered his lips close to hers. "You always were the better tracker." His lips met hers and she knew that neither would ever be complete without the other.

  Dawn pulled back from his embrace. She took the blanket from their shoulders and spread it on the ground beneath the branches of the old sprawling oak. With love bursting from her heart, she took his hand and pulled him down with her.

  ***

  Little Jack waked to a kick in the ribs. Standing over him was the biggest burliest man he'd ever seen. He glanced over at Becker and saw him lying in an odd angle, blood covering the side of his head. He fought to control his fear and his voice as he spoke, "We just be poor travelers. We ain't got nothin' o' value." He stammered. "Is Becker dead?"

  The burly man chuckled, "Naw, he ain't dead. He just be restin'."

  Only after a second man spoke did he realize there was more than one. "I say kill 'um both, take the horses and be on our way." The other man said nastily.

  "I like you less with each passin' day, Frank." the burly man complained. "I told ye before, Ronnie and me ain't no killers. There 'as to be a limit to what a man will do."

  At that moment Little Jack heard the faint sound of Dawn's voice. He knew she must be at the pond greeting the sun. He prayed the highwaymen didn't hear her as well. His prayers went unanswered.

  "Wait! Did you hear that? Sounds like a woman." The burly man crouched as he spoke softly, "Ronnie, get over here. Tie up and gag this one. I think we got some real sport close by."

  After hastily securing Little Jack the three men crouched low and moved forward. They carefully placed themselves behind the outcrop of rocks where they could hide themselves as they watched Dawn take her morning bath.

  Little Jack couldn't believe they left his feet unbound. He rocked himself up to his knees and crawled as close as he could before the burly man turned and fixed his gaze on him. "You come any closer or make a sound in warnin' and it's your conscience that will bear the guilt o' their death."

  Little Jack nodded in understanding and sat back on his haunches.