by Betty Bolte
"I don't know exactly how to help her, so hopefully she'll awaken soon. But I can take care of Icarus while you build up the fire." Amy looped Icarus' reins over a low branch beside the trail while she considered where to take him for the night. She glanced at the cave opening, the memory of Peter's stench and leer vivid in her mind. The taste of tobacco smoke and liquor filled her mouth at the thought of the brutal kiss. She hadn't planned to bite him; it had been reflex. She lifted her hand to her bruised and swollen jaw, felt the puffy soreness. She winced when she lightly touched her battered cheek.
"Are you all right?" Ben towered above her slight frame. His gaze drifted to where her hand covered her cheek, and she slowly slid her fingers from her face as she gazed up at him. He lifted her chin with a finger and searched her eyes. "I won't let anything or anyone hurt you ever again, sweetheart. Do you trust me?"
"I do, but I—I can't go in there." She shot a glance at the shadowed entrance, dark and secret. Not even a campfire to relieve the deep shadows. The moon appeared low and pale in the distance, the perfect background for the fruit bat darting across its luminous disc. "What if a bear has moved in there since this morning?"
Ben chuckled, deep and reassuring, his eyes intent on her face. "Not with the smell of man and fire still lingering in the air. Let me grab my kit, and I'll start a fire to give us some light and warmth." He leaned down and kissed her gently on the mouth.
A blaze of electricity shot through her senses, and she leaned into his reassuring embrace. He drew her to him, his arms circling her as he deepened the kiss. She reveled in the familiarity of his passion and strength, the scent of leather and mint mingling as part of him. She clung to his waist, opened her mouth to allow his entrance, drawing strength and desperately needed comfort to fend off her fears.
Slowly he pulled back, ending the kiss with a sigh. "I've missed you, Amy."
She blinked back sudden tears. "Me, too, Ben."
His presence filled a void inside her mind and heart which contradicted her declaration of having no attraction to him. She'd worked hard to deny to everyone, including herself, how important he was to her, and now she didn't know how to proceed. Should she tell him her feelings or remain faithful to her vow, the vow she'd made to ensure her own independence?
He stepped around her and removed his saddlebag. "As tempting as kissing you again might be, we need firelight and warmth before the darkness completely arrives."
"I'll tend to Icarus while you do that." Being out of the dark cave would hopefully help her regain her composure before forced to seek shelter in the unnerving place. His kiss lingered upon her lips, reminding her of the passion smoldering in his eyes even as he walked away. She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly.
He began gathering an armload of sticks and twigs to use to build the fire. Amy untied Icarus from the tree and led the stallion to an open area with low-branched trees surrounding it. She tied the reins to a branch and loosened the girth on the saddle to make it more comfortable but convenient in case they needed to leave in a hurry. Her father had taught her to be prepared when sleeping out. Of course, it would have been easier if she'd known they'd end up captives and marched through the forest. Still, Icarus needed care in order to ensure he'd be capable of carrying Samantha back to safety.
She pulled her kerchief from about her neck and rubbed the sweat marks from the horse, trying to calm her whirling thoughts with each stroke. Ironically the day Icarus had been born was another day when Ben had kissed her, one of the last times before he left so suddenly. She'd been so full of joy when the foal first stood on his wobbly, knobby legs. The first foal in the new crossbreeding plan between her father's prize mare, Persephone, and the great racing stallion Mannaheim. Her father had beamed with pride as the gangly colt latched onto his mother's milk supply. As usual, Ben was close at hand, his attraction to horses second only to his attraction to her. After her father left to inform her mother of the new arrival, she could no longer contain her joy and kissed him, right there in the aisle of the foaling barn. She hadn't even cared if any of the stable hands caught them. Her cheeks warmed at the memory, and her hand stilled in the act of wiping down Icarus. She tasted Ben's kiss again and the familiar creep of passion swelled through her. Only Ben had ever made her crave his touch, his taste, by merely thinking of him.
By the time she'd settled the horse for the evening, the smell of wood smoke drifted her way. She walked back to see to Samantha. Peering into the cave, she saw her sitting up on the bed, watching Amy's approach, though still pale. A fire glowed in the center fire pit. Ben emerged from the right side of the cave. "We're in luck. They left us some grub. I guess they were in a hurry."
"Yes, they were." Amy remembered the stew she'd made earlier in the day, but refused to dwell on it. The pitiful piece of cold dry cornbread she'd been forced to eat no longer assuaged her hunger. The bastards had devoured the hot meal, leaving their captives to nibble on the paltry remains of some long ago attempt at sustenance. She would think about those men and their hateful actions later. For now she needed to focus on helping Samantha heal and reaching safety. Ben would protect her. And if he couldn't for some reason, then she'd defend herself.
Ben looked at Amy quizzically. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine."
"Come, let's go in and settle down for the night, then." He extended his hand, waiting.
Dragging in a breath, she put her hand in his and let him draw her inside.
* * *
Tossing a log onto the crackling fire, Benjamin stared at the burst of flames and spray of orange and blue sparks. Samantha had moved to settle onto a stone seat by the fire in order to have more light and warmth, searching through her medicine bag. He focused on building the fire. The earlier tableau he'd encountered as he and Icarus hurried along the path leading down to the river appeared in his mind. Amy swinging what looked like a fourteen-pound rifle as though it were naught but a length of bamboo. His heart had skipped in its rhythm as the man fell beside Samantha followed by her subsequent cry of surprise. His lovely Amy, bruised, with dried blood alongside her pretty mouth, working to move the brute. But first taking something from his pocket. What had she slipped around her neck? Some sort of necklace. Humph. A suspicion blossomed, one he needed to investigate posthaste.
A movement drew his attention to the cave's entrance. His love still stood poised there, where she'd halted when he'd tried to draw her inside to the warmth and light. She stood tense, ready to run. She looked at him, then away, and back again. She hesitated in the opening, silhouetted by the pale moonlight caressing the forest, then cautiously placed one foot in front of the other. She was scared, but of what? Needing to remove the fear from her eyes, he rose and walked to her, securing her hands in his as she stopped. "Don't be afraid, darling. I'm here."
What had happened that left her afraid to enter? The bruises along her jaw and cheek spoke of violence against her person. Anger sizzled within his chest, hot and instant, as his imagination combined with experience to paint a vivid impression in his mind. The hulks having their way with his woman, hands and mouths on places where they had no right to be. He saw the truth of his imaginings reflected in the caution in her eyes.
"I can't." Her words emerged barely audible. She scanned the large, shadowy cave, her eyes unfocused, remembering. "It's too difficult."
He squeezed her arms, and she flinched, focusing her attention on his hands.
"I'm here." The worry softened within her eyes, but her tension remained. "Do you want to talk about it? Tell me what happened?"
She shook her head. "I'll be fine in a moment. Give me time. They were mean, brutal men, but it could have been far worse." She laid a hand on his where it possessively but lightly grasped one arm. "They were nothing like you. I know that, but it will take time to put it behind me."
Benjamin cupped her cheek with his free hand, and she leaned into the caress. The cut would heal and the bruises fade long before the memory. Trauma
such as she must have faced needed the passage of time to ease. He'd help her through it, one step at a time.
Samantha cleared her throat. He glanced at where she sat by the fire, busily applying the poultice to her wound, her back now to him for her own privacy as she hiked her skirt up to treat her leg. He'd located in the pile of items on the wood and stone table a bit of honeycomb and the dregs of a bottle of rum, which she'd combined to use on the wound as well. She'd told him the combination helped to keep the wound soft so the skin healed properly. The fire popped and hissed between her and where Benjamin stood with Amy at the cave's mouth. He gazed at Amy, earning a cautious smile from her.
"Come to me, sweetheart." Taking both her hands, he tugged. She resisted for a heartbeat, then stepped farther into the cave. Maybe one day she'd tell him. He may never know what exactly happened, but in the event, it no longer mattered. His primal instincts surged in his blood, and for a moment his vision clouded along with the rage roaring in his ears. If he ever caught sight of those bastards again, they wouldn't live to hurt anyone else.
As they approached the cheery campfire, Samantha straightened her skirt and slowly moved to face them. Benjamin noted her pallor and bruises on her cheek as well, but at least some color had returned to her face. The two ladies had obviously resisted their captors, provoking the men to retaliate with force. His blood simmered. They could have been killed for their trouble.
Samantha grimaced as she attempted to make herself comfortable on the flat-topped rock. "The bleeding has stopped. I'm glad it bled so, because it helped cleanse the wound. Now the poultice can do its job to help it heal."
"It's been quite a day." Amy perched on another wide rock. "Our quick stroll in the woods became a much longer adventure. I hope you heal soon."
"Oh, this works. Last time..." Samantha gaped at them with wide eyes, her mouth open but no sound emerging.
"There was a last time?" Benjamin cocked his head, curious at Samantha's startled pause.
She glanced between Amy and Benjamin, then sighed as she nodded wearily. "Last year, I—I had a similar injury and ended up seeking the advice of a Creek healer."
"You studied with the Creeks, too?" Amy shifted on the rock, leaning forward with her hands clasped.
Samantha was full of surprises. Benjamin had suspected she worked with the Indians in order to know as much about plants as she did. In this day and age many folks had turned away from the old wives' recipes toward the newer practical medicines offered by educated doctors. His curiosity piqued, he leaned forward to hear her soft voice more clearly.
Samantha smoothed her hands on her skirt. "For a month or so. I would have enjoyed staying longer, but I couldn't afford to stay."
"Why not?" Benjamin asked.
Samantha looked away, staring into the depths of the cave where firelight shadows danced on the uneven walls before being swallowed by the tunnels beyond. "I would have been missed."
"You weren't supposed to be with the Indians." A lady had no business mingling with the likes of the savages roaming the boundaries of white civilization. He wrestled with his protective nature to remain calm and gather more information without berating Amy's friend.
"What were you doing that far from town anyway?"
Samantha turned back to consider him and shrugged dismissively. "I should have been at my grandmother's in Savannah, but I needed help, and the healer had offered. His ways have proved very useful. I agree with their belief in the power of the four elements—fire, water, earth, and air—working along with the more advanced theories of medicine to bring harmony and healing to people."
"Let's hope the Creek medicines work fast." Amy reached out to grasp Samantha's hand, squeezing it in companionship and comfort. "I want to get back without you falling off of Icarus again."
Samantha laughed, and Benjamin detected a note of relief when the topic shifted. Amy's redirection was not lost on him. She protected her friend in her own way. "Me, too."
Amy placed a hand on her stomach as Benjamin heard a low rumble emanate from her direction. "I need food, though I detest the idea of using their things." She shivered, and it was all Benjamin could do to not wrap his arms around her to demonstrate his sincerity in promising to keep her safe.
"Remember, it's food and you're hungry." Benjamin laid a hand on her leg, pleased when she didn't protest.
She nodded, then stood and walked to the pile of rocks bracing several wood planks to form the table. Several scattered tins and pots rested on top. As she stacked them, she said, "I am hungry. The beasts didn't pause in marching us through the woods. I suppose we slowed them down on their flight."
Benjamin stretched his legs out, gazing at Amy. "I imagine they were headed north like the other smart loyalists who fled. Any loyalists left in South Carolina after the British evacuate will regret staying."
"That explains their hurry then. Perhaps they were trying to disappear into the back country to avoid retaliation. Good riddance, is all I have to say." She rummaged around the scant selection of fare, then looked at Benjamin. "I've some dried beef and beans, so I can make some soup at least. And there's some corn meal and soda left. With a little water I can put together some bread. We won't starve."
Benjamin watched her busy herself with the soup making. His girl was more creative than he'd realized. He pictured her working around their house, tidying up after their many children. Directing their cook on how to prepare delectable meals. Managing the household with efficiency and skill. Then evenings spent sitting together by the fire, her reading to him from one of many volumes of poetry or perhaps telling one of her famous tales.
She'd smile with her pearly teeth, silky skin smooth beneath his touch when he laid his fingers along her cheek. Her sigh of pleasure when he spoke her name. A stirring in his breeches made him squirm into a more comfortable position. His movement drew her attention. He shifted to hide the evidence of the wayward thoughts careening through his mind.
"Is there something you need?" Amy halted her preparation of soup in the small kettle, hands paused in the act of putting the ingredients into the pot.
Need? Indeed, but he couldn't reveal exactly what yet. He managed a nonchalant grin. "No, merely impressed with your abilities."
"I see. If you've nothing better to do, perchance you'd fetch some water?" She watched him for a long moment until he nodded, then returned to her task.
After dinner Samantha yawned. "I think I'll sleep for a while so I don't fall off Icarus tomorrow."
"I'd catch you again if needed." Benjamin chuckled.
"But please stay on the horse," Amy said. "For tonight, why don't you sleep with your back to the fire so the light doesn't keep you awake?"
Amy helped her friend limp back to the pine straw bed while Benjamin poked a stick at the fire, sending up sparks in a shower of red and orange light. The ladies' voices grew fainter, and he had to listen hard to catch what they murmured.
"Sleep will help the healing process as well." When they neared the deeper shadows, Samantha folded her cloak around herself and lay down, facing the wall. "You need rest, too."
"I'll try." Amy bent over to tuck the cloak around her friend and stood up, turning back to face Benjamin with shuttered eyes.
* * *
Amy stood for a moment watching Ben as he tended to the fire. Then he met her eyes, a stick in his hand apparently forgotten as he studied her. What did he expect? She forced her feet into motion, relegating the painful memories to a deep, locked compartment of her mind. She'd sort them out later. She absolutely did not want to think about them tonight. Not with Ben watching her with fathomless eyes the color of the sky after the sun had set but before the stars made an appearance.
He moistened his lips, which seemed to bring him back to the present moment, since his gaze dropped to the stick and he laid it down. Then he stood, forcing her appreciative gaze up his lean, strong torso, past his muscled shoulders straining against the open-collared shirt that revealed a patch of blac
k, curly hair on his chest. Finally, as she drew nearer and nearer to him, she saw his concern for her in his tender expression, the way he stepped toward her slowly, cautiously, as though dealing with a frightened doe and not a full-grown, capable woman.
She stopped a few feet from him, not knowing how to proceed. What to say or do when she didn't know what she needed or wanted from him or herself.
"Come join me, my dear." He held out a hand to invite her closer. "We can talk or sit and stare at the fire, whichever you'd prefer."
She moved toward him, sitting on the indicated stone at his invitation. He resumed his seat and stirred the fire with a long branch, but said nothing. She stared at the dancing tongues of flame, the heat warming her hands, her face. He'd suggested talking, but about what? She searched for a subject, anything to break the tension between them, but nothing came to mind.
"Those bastards should be drawn and quartered for what they put you ladies through today." Ben slowly traced figure eights in the ashes of the fire, tiny red sparks floating up and vanishing in the dark. "First for threatening and hurting you, and then for being loyalists."
Amy inhaled sharply, the vivid image of the torture appearing in her mind, the screams of the men as the horses pulled their bodies, their muscles, to the limits and beyond. The men's heads and limbs severed and posted on poles as warnings for other would-be criminals. She shuddered at the horrific vision even as she agreed with him.
"Unfortunately," Ben said, snapping the stick in two and tossing the pieces onto the flames, "they will escape punishment due to the unsettled state of affairs in our country. Unless of course the fools err and return to attempt to wreak more pain and suffering on you."
