When no one answered Stephen’s rap on the door, they let themselves in and found William still sound asleep, lying face down, wearing only his linen underdrawers.
Little John marched over to the bedside. “Wake up Uncle Will. Uncle Stephen needs to talk to you.”
William raised his head, grunted, and managed a weak smile at his nephew.
“What are you doing still asleep when the morning’s half over?” Stephen asked. “I swear the only reason you wanted to be sheriff was to keep yourself out of real work.”
“And out of jail,” John said. “Probably figured if he was sheriff, he couldn’t get arrested.”
“Excellent point,” Stephen said, looking over at John.
“Had a long night,” William said, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed and slowly pushing himself up. “First there were two young ladies that needed some company and then these trappers started trying to snare my lovely ladies. I had to set them straight. They’re probably sore around the jaw this morning.” He pushed his long hair out of his face with both hands.
“You look a little roughed up yourself,” John said. “But that’s not unusual for you.”
“Well, there were three of them,” William said.
“Get dressed. We’re going to talk to Edward about the move to Kentucky,” Stephen ordered.
“I’m not going anywhere without some coffee,” William said, pulling on his breeches. Stephen handed him his shirt. “You can have coffee at Edward’s. Get dressed.”
“I’ll saddle your horse,” John said as he strode out.
Stephen stepped a few feet away, but not out of earshot.
Little John remained nearby watching his Uncle dress.
“He’s wound up tighter than a new watch,” William told Little John. “I just need to throw some water on my face. Can you hand me my cravat?”
“Sure and here are your leggings and boots,” Little John replied. “I think Uncle Stephen wants to tell you something important.”
“Indeed, I do,” Stephen said.
“Let’s go see what’s got him so worked up,” William said, grabbing his pistol and powder.
The ride to Edward’s handsome house was just across the town, so within minutes, they gathered around the home’s highly polished dining table. Edward’s wife and children had gone to the butcher’s shop so they had the big house to themselves.
As Edward got cups and poured coffee, Stephen watched Little John climb onto his father’s lap. At five years of age, the boy liked sitting on his father’s knee. Like John, he would be tall, already a head taller than other boys his age. His strawberry blond hair hung as straight as a ruler and framed a cherub sweet face. Perhaps because he was motherless, all four uncles gave Little John an abundance of attention and love.
“Where’s Sam?” Edward asked. “If we need to talk, he should be here too.”
“I’ll explain,” Stephen said, then proceeded to fill in his three brothers. Little John also listened quietly and attentively, his eyes growing wide when he learned that Bomazeen had nearly taken his Aunt and cousin.
“I can’t believe you’re willing to take a journey this dangerous,” Edward said.
“Staying here is a greater gamble. We all agree Bomazeen will come back for her. He specifically targeted her. How do we defend her against someone that cunning and evil? He’s some kind of supernatural fiend. It’s like trying to defend her against a damn ghost.”
“On the trail, we’re more vulnerable to attack. What makes you think he won’t come after us?” William asked.
“We can minimize risks if we travel in a group. We’re strong together. Sam, Bear, and you are all highly skilled with arms. John and I are competent shooters. We are virtually a small army. I’m confident we’ll be able to deal with potential threats—as long as we stay together.” He strode over to the window and peered out, already visualizing the group of them traveling west.
Edward let out a long, audible breath. “A man like Sam might stay alive in Kentucky. But not you Stephen. If you lose your life or the lives of those you love, what have you gained? I understand wanting to pursue a dream, but dreams can quickly become nightmares.”
Stephen snorted. He was more like Sam than Edward, that was a certainty. Maybe Edward didn’t understand because he couldn’t. Edward had always appreciated the creations of men more than the creations of God. The man just didn’t understand that land is the foundation of life itself. He turned away from the window and marched over to stand by Edward.
“I’ve tried to make the best of my place. The winters here try both man and animal. I have seen my cows turn as hard as stone as they froze to death in roaring bitter winds. The rest are so poor by spring, they don’t breed back. Our horses have to paw through snow locked in ice trying to feed on dry withered grass. Beef and horses need good pastures to keep life in their bodies. I can’t sit here, like some bloody fool, waiting for granite to grow grass,” he said. He moved away from Edward and faced his other brothers.
“I have just spent a month of back-breaking labor clearing heavy timber and rocks off just one acre of my farm, toiled until my hands are raw and bleeding. And for what?” Stephen asked. “With every rock I throw in a pile, my life is slipping through my hands. I need to look beyond my own front door for a better life.”
Edward examined his own well-manicured nails and the shiny gold ring he had purchased with his last month’s profits. His lucrative store was one of the region’s largest establishments and his mind for business ensured he didn’t have to bust his knuckles like his brothers.
“Kentucky is indeed beyond your front door,” Edward scoffed, “more than a thousand miles beyond, half of it through raw wilderness.”
Stephen turned away from his brothers to look out the window again and studied the morning sky, cloudless and serene. “Imagine what it would be like—a wide valley, a slow, clear creek sparkling through it. Grass that grows green and thick even when God is tight with the rain. The climate’s mild and the land is so fertile the grass tickles the cows’ bellies.” But even as his soul reveled in this heavenly vision, his mind jerked him back to reality. He needed to get back to Jane. He turned back to face his brothers.
“Edward, you can live in your grand house, and sell goods year after year. Or, you can come with us. You may die, or, you may experience the greatness of your life,” Stephen said.
John spoke up. “Maybe Edward will experience the greatness of his life where he is. But we can’t let fear keep us here.”
A quiet, pensive man, the builder in John loved nothing more than the music of hammers and saws. Stephen understood why John never completely recovered from losing his wife Diana in childbirth. A house full of reminders of her made it difficult to recover. Perhaps it would also make it easier for him to make the move. The most important reminder of Diana stood next to John, his little arm wrapped around his father’s elbow.
“I feel God calling me to a new life. In a place as fresh as Kentucky, I know we’ll have opportunity and so will our sons,” John said. “I just need a few days to take care of my building projects and put my affairs in order.”
“Damn it, John, your son’s future is precisely what worries me,” Edward shouted. “The wilderness is unforgiving. Do you want Little John facing vicious heathens? Or some of the rough depraved white men of those frontier settlements? I’ve heard most of them acknowledge no superior on earth, and it’s a question if they do in heaven.”
Stephen had heard the same thing but wasn’t about to say so.
Edward continued to rant. “Do you want your children exposed to the elements for months at a time? The frontier is no place for civilized men, much less youngsters. Stephen, think of your beautiful wife. She won’t be safer on the trail. And your four young daughters. One of them is still in the cradle for God’s sake. It’s unthinkable. You have all heard about the brutal murders and torture of women and children on the Wilderness Trail. Even Boone’s own son was tortu
red before he died in agony. How many of you won’t make it? Whom will you bury along the way in lonely graves you will never visit again? You two can sacrifice your children—but hell will freeze before I will.”
Stephen’s face contorted in fury and confusion. He slammed his fist against the table, making the pewter candlesticks and Little John jump. He leaned across the table and glared at Edward, wanting to make him shut the hell up. What angered him the most was the truth in his brother’s words. Truth often generates more anger than a lie.
Nearly choking on his anger, he couldn’t speak. It galled him to admit, but Edward was right. He would be putting the lives of young innocents in peril, but he still thought leaving would be the best way to protect Jane and Martha. His stomach clenched as he collapsed into a chair. He watched John hug his son and then drop his head into his big hands. Edward’s words clearly stung John too.
Amid the uncomfortable silence, Stephen forced himself to picture the horrible what if…the loss of one of his daughters. The frightening and abhorrent image made him swallow hard. He shook his head but it didn’t clear. Like waking from a bad dream, he realized it wasn’t real, but the horrible thought remained to make him uneasy.
“People die here too,” Little John said.
Stephen glanced up. One by one, his brothers recognized what the child had. Life was fragile wherever they were. Tragically, they had all lost family here. First, both his parents and younger sister, buried by the landslide. Then Little John’s young mother.
“Little John’s got the right of it. There’s danger here too. A few days back, young Lucy MacGyver disappeared. Probably an Indian slave by now. The militia and Sam and I tried to track her, but we had to abandon the chase when the tracks evaporated in the mountains,” William said. “I’m afraid we’ll never find her.”
“There’s no hope for her,” John agreed. “She could be anywhere from here to Montreal.”
“We all die when it’s our time, no sooner and no later,” William said. He grabbed John Jr., gave him an affectionate hug, and then lifted the boy high into the air, earning William a delighted squeal from the child. “As for me, I’d leave tomorrow. I say, let’s go before the best land gets settled. It’s safe enough—I read that the Indians there signed a treaty after the Battle of Fallen Timbers. Besides, it’d be amusing for all of us to be together again.”
Unlike Edward, the prospect of change never worried William. His handsome brother welcomed it, not because of the challenge it represented for Sam, but because William had not found his place in life. William viewed everything in his life as temporary. The only thing permanent was his love of the law. But William’s cavalier attitude infuriated him as much as Edward had. There was so much at stake—the lives of his family and his brothers.
William was his predictable impulsive ‘ready, fire, aim,’ self. “I’ll go talk to the mayor and let him know the town will need to elect a new Sheriff, then I’ll pack what I’ll need, go to the bank, and be at your place by early afternoon.”
“Needless to say, my family won’t be going,” Edward said emphatically. “Too many risks. Too many.” He shook his head from side to side. “This is beyond foolish. Leaving won’t keep Jane and the girls safe.”
His contemptuous tone sparked Stephen’s anger again. “You’re making two mistakes, calling it foolish and staying here.”
“You’re the one making two mistakes,” Edward yelled back. “Putting your wife and your children in jeopardy.”
Stephen sprang up from the chair and glared at Edward, feeling his jaws clamp together.
John stepped between them. “This argument is pointless. The decision has been made. We’ll need your help managing our properties since we need to leave as soon as we’re able.”
“Of course. I’ll take care of all your properties. I can rent them out or sell them, as you prefer. Just let me know what you need me to do. And you may procure all your supplies at my cost from my store,” Edward offered. “I’ll send a wagon into Durham for whatever you’ll need that I don’t have in stock. Just give me your list. Sam should have a good feel for what’s needed he’s made so many trips with the army.”
“Sam and I will work up a list,” Stephen said, putting aside his anger to focus on what needed doing. “John, will you take care of securing a wagon and an ox team? Make whatever changes you think would make it more comfortable for Jane and more efficient for the trip. It will need a durable cover to protect the children from storms. We will need as much storage room as possible, a large water barrel on each side, and an extra wheel or two. Have it ready by the time Edward gets the supplies together. Sam will secure what weapons and ammunition we should bring. I’ll find us a couple of good spare horses. I heard about some geldings for sale here in Barrington. And William, if you would handle all the legal documents involved in the selling or renting of our properties.” Because William aspired to become a lawyer, he had studied the law for years, and Stephen was confident that he would expertly handle the necessary papers.
By afternoon, the brothers’ hastily made plans were well in place. After all his agonizing, he realized the decision was behind him. At last, it’s happening. He grinned and his heart swelled as his mind’s eye pictured expansive rolling pastures, his herds of cattle and horses grazing contentedly on lush Kentucky grass in the warm sun. Jane and the children, safe, in a big new home.
He could make that happen. He would make that happen.
Chapter 11
While Stephen was gone, Jane invited Sam into the house to smoke his pipe by the open window. Bear was busy feeding the horses and other animals. The scent of sweet tobacco smoke mixed with the pleasant aroma of her baking biscuits.
She’d already begun the difficult task of selecting what to take to Kentucky and what to leave behind. Her heart not yet completely committed to the idea, she found it difficult to concentrate and wandered from one item to another.
“Jane, you seem fretful. Are you uncertain that this move is what’s best for you and Stephen?” Sam asked.
She thought for a moment before replying. “I’m not at all sure. I am beyond worried. I’m terrified that we are making a mistake. Is leaving the best plan Sam? Do you truly think Bomazeen will come back?” She fisted her hands in her apron to keep them from trembling.
“I do. There’s no telling when. But he will.”
“I admit the thought of facing that beast again terrifies me.”
“It should. He’s not human.”
“Even if Bomazeen doesn’t come back, I understand why Stephen wants to do this. You can’t cage an eagle in a farmyard. If he doesn’t go, he will never be completely happy. And if he’s not happy, how can I be? How can he be a good father and make his children happy if he feels trapped in a life that’s not his destiny?”
“I’ve watched him all my life. Even as a child, he longed for more than he saw here. He sees with the same vision our ancestors had. He sees the horizon everywhere he looks.”
“No, Stephen sees beyond the horizon. He is determined to do this. His will to go is stronger than my desire to stay.”
They both agreed it was the correct decision for Stephen. However, she still worried whether it was for her daughters. She wondered if her husband fully realized what her girls would face. What she would face. She was by no means a delicate woman, but the wilderness tested the mettle of even the strongest of men. Did he really understand how much she was leaving behind?
“But what about you? Do you realize how hard this trip will be?” he asked.
“I know it would be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Maybe the hardest thing I will ever do. But my father taught me not to shirk from something just because it was hard—because most everything that’s important is difficult. That’s the way life is. That’s not what is holding me back. I am worried about the girls. How could I live with myself if something happens to them on the trail?”
“They are not out of danger here. Bomazeen is as clever as Lucifer.
He’ll find a way to pay you back—maybe by stealing more than one of your daughters. Heaven forbid they did die on the Wilderness Trail, it would be better than being a slave.”
She looked away hastily, then moved restlessly around the room, finally picking up Stephen’s favorite book. She added it to the stack of items they would take. “Perhaps you’re right. The thought of him trying to steal Martha again makes my heart shake. Even the toughest life is better than slavery.”
“Are they going?” Sam asked the minute Stephen returned later that day.
“William and John are joining us,” Stephen answered, dismounting, “but not Edward. He thinks we’re making a mistake.”
“That’s Edward’s problem,” Sam snarled, “he thinks too damn much.”
“If you and Bear are willing, we leave in two days,” he said, as he led George to the barn.
“Good. It’s time to stop lathering and start shaving,” Sam said.
Stephen wondered if Sam was trying to appear confident or if he really had no doubts.
As they walked back toward the house, he heard Jane call out, “Stew’s ready and the biscuits are hot. Please dust off your boots before you gentlemen come inside.”
“Don’t let Bear eat my biscuits,” Sam yelled back, used to competing for food with his brothers.
“I made an extra pan full just for you,” Jane answered.
That was smart. He had seen Sam eat a dozen biscuits at a sitting.
“Jane, you’re an angel here on earth,” Sam said, climbing the porch steps two at a time and then throwing the door open.
“If she’s an angel, then God must have his hands full,” Stephen said, wiping some flour off her face. Even in an apron covered with food stains, she was a vision.
Jane swatted him with her dishtowel, but she still gave him a big smile.
Stephen sat at the head of their old pine table, the tantalizing sight of steaming stew, hot biscuits, fresh butter, and a cobbler, all making his mouth water.
Romancing the Wilderness: American Wilderness Series Boxed Bundle Books 1 - 3 Page 8
