Romancing the Wilderness: American Wilderness Series Boxed Bundle Books 1 - 3

by Dorothy Wiley

  William had one wolf back in a minute, and then quickly went after the bigger of the two.

  Sam turned his brother on his side and pushed the still warm animal, up against his back, and then as soon as William brought it, pushed the second beast against his front side. Then Sam draped the neck of the front wolf onto Stephen’s neck.

  He noticed both wolves had severe cuts and slashes on nearly every leg and one leg on the larger black fiend hung nearly severed. The stomach of the other had a deep gash, evidently opened by Stephen’s hatchet. He marveled at the courage his brother found to survive the attack.

  He cut the tails off both wolves, wrapped, and then tied them around Stephen’s hands. The heavy air held the musty scent of the wild animals and the shared apprehension of the two men.

  Sam finally stood.

  William looked worried. “Is he going to make it?”

  “Hard to say,” Sam whispered.

  “If he comes around soon, he’ll recover quickly. If he stays out, he’s chilled to his core. His heart may be too cold to get his blood flowing again,” Sam said.

  William knelt down, pressed the carcass nearest him up closer to Stephen’s chest, and held it there with his hands.

  After several long interminable minutes, Stephen started to stir and finally opened his eyes. They glistened unnaturally in the dark.

  Stephen screamed as his eyes flew open. The wolf was right next to him! Horrorstruck, he thrust the beast away and pushed himself up. Flailing his arms around him in a wild frenzy, he grabbed his hatchet. Never comprehending the wolves were motionless, or that Sam and William stood nearby, he slammed the hatchet into the wolf’s neck.

  He stood, swaying on his feet and glaring at the wolves. They weren’t moving. Were they dead?

  “Stephen,” Sam shouted. “They’re dead. The wolves are dead!”

  When he stopped and looked up, Sam grabbed the hatchet and handed it to William.

  His brothers were here? They seemed to be trying to tell him something, but he could barely hear him. He couldn’t think. But he remembered that he just fought a battle for his life, his entire being consumed with trying to stay alive. He shook his head, trying to understand what had happened and what was happening.

  “He’s delirious with rage and fatigue,” he heard Sam say.

  “We’re here Stephen. We found you. We’ll help you,” William said. “Bear’s bringing our mounts.”

  “Savage fury isn’t something easily turned off,” Sam said. “Give him a few minutes.”

  Slowly, Stephen started to calm and his breathing began to slow somewhat. He glared directly at Sam, then at William. Recognition finally came into his head.

  “Did…I ki..kill them?” he stammered, blood dripping from his shaking hands.

  “Fending off an attack by two wolves is a remarkable feat. Both were dying and started running off when they heard us coming. We only finished them off for you,” Sam explained.

  “If they were running off, why were they next to me?”

  “We put those beasts close to you to get you warmed up,” Sam explained.

  Judging from the warmth coming back into his body, Sam’s plan had worked, although he didn’t appreciate waking next to the fiends.

  “Take it easy, you’re leaking blood too fast for you to be moving around,” William said.

  William applied pressure to Stephen’s neck wound, while Sam helped lean him against the tree trunk.

  “Sam, they nearly had me.” Stephen panted the words. “When that big black monster ripped my neck, I thought I was about to be eaten alive. But I didn’t give up. I kept fighting like I knew you would.”

  “You did fine,” Sam said, “mighty fine.”

  “Jane? Is Jane all right?” he asked, still shaking somewhat.

  “Yes, and so are the girls. John’s with them,” William said. “She’s sick with worry though. We need to get you back to her soon or she’ll be out searching for you herself.”

  “Little John?” Stephen nearly pleaded the question.

  “Jane’s tending to him. In a lot of pain, but he should be fine. Going to make a good hunter one of these days,” Sam said.

  “And a good man,” he said, feeling weak but more like himself. He slid down the tree trunk to sit and after several minutes his breathing calmed and the blood stopped dripping from his neck.

  “I’m sorry you got separated,” Sam said. “I tried looking for you, but the rain was so heavy I couldn’t see a thing, and I needed to get help for Little John.”

  “I’m just glad you found me when you did.”

  “Me too,” Sam and William both said at once.

  Bear arrived with their horses and as soon as he saw his owner, George yanked away and galloped to Stephen, snorting and stomping his feet. The stallion acted as though he knew something was wrong.

  “Whoa now,” he soothed. “I’m just fine now.” He reached up and with still cold fingers, stroked George’s wet nose. The stallion calmed and stood still, letting the rein drop in Stephen’s lap.

  After tying the other three horses, Bear helped Sam skin the wolves. Better than blankets and waterproof, Sam wanted to use the furs to keep Stephen warm until they made it back to camp. Now the two wolves would help save his life, not take it from him.

  In the meantime, William took a cloth from his saddlebag, moistened it with water pooled on leaves, and started cleaning as much blood and dirt off Stephen’s face and neck as he could. “Your face is bruised and filthy,” William said as he began, “but remarkably, it’s only nicked in a few places.”

  “Good, I wouldn’t want you to be the only handsome one in the family,” Stephen said, feeling more like himself.

  With each passing minute, he seemed to gain strength. He had survived. As soon as he could hold Jane in his arms, everything would be right again.

  “I still have the meat,” he said, pointing to the bundle that hung high up in the tree.

  “I knew you would,” Sam said.

  Chapter 41

  Thankful to be alive, beyond anything he felt before now, Stephen and the group slowly made their way back to their camp through the dark wet wilderness. He could not wait to see Jane again. He had come so close to making her a widow. Now, he just wanted to be back in her arms again.

  The miserably cold wind and rain moved further south and they were all beginning to thaw out. With the help of the wolf hides tied to him, warmth crept back into his body. The damp air smelled like wet earth and leaves. Every sodden tree, branches drooping, dripped with the last drops of the violent storm.

  Before long, with each step of his horse, the drops seemed to grow heavier with menace. The forest seemed unnaturally quiet. Instinctively, he knew something was wrong. He also saw Sam growing more apprehensive by the minute. His brother’s senses, honed by years in the wild, seemed to be on high alert. Stephen watched as Sam scanned the surrounding woodland again and again. This went beyond his ordinary watchfulness.

  Now, his own skin crawled. Yet, he couldn’t figure out what was making both of them so uneasy.

  He glanced over at Bear and William. They seemed to sense danger too.

  The unknown threat made the group slow as they drew closer to their camp.

  He steered George alongside Sam and asked, “Is something wrong?”

  “Possibly,” Sam whispered. “Wait here.”

  “No, I’m going with you,” he said, his tone leaving no room for debate.

  “Tell the others to wait here. Tell them to stay silent and load their weapons. Then follow me.”

  Now Stephen worried in earnest. Sam’s instincts were never wrong.

  Stephen silently made his way forward, following behind Sam, the only sound coming from a forest of dripping leaves and pine needles. Dark speculation filled him with unease.

  Within minutes, hidden in heavy brush, they studied their camp. Using the dry wood they stored under the wagons in a storm, the group had managed to get a large fire blazing. The
firelight made the drops of moisture on the branches surrounding his head sparkle and let him see the campsite clearly.

  Then his stomach vaulted with the intensity of his horror. He blinked hard, hoping that fatigue made him see an illusion. But it was no illusion—it was Chief Wanalancet himself and four muscular braves. He recognized the Chief, having seen Wanalancet once before when Sam helped to mediate a peace pact between several tribes and the colonists.

  “Bloody hell!” Stephen mouthed silently.

  In addition to a bow, each Pennacook brave carried a rifle and knives. Their dark wet hair and exposed skin looked polished in the fire’s light. Except for mud on the legs of their horses, tied nearby, they seemed unaffected by the storm.

  Jane stood by the fire, as Wanalancet circled, studying her. Her long hair appeared damp and even wilder than normal. Her bright eyes shot daggers of anger at Wanalancet and followed the man’s movements. He prayed Jane’s temper would not get her killed and hoped he could control his own mounting rage.

  John lay motionless on the ground nearby, his hands and feet tied. Other than a bloodied face, he appeared to be unharmed. The children were tied together around one tree, the two girls weeping quietly while Little John, in obvious pain, whimpered pitifully. Anger swelled in his chest and he gnashed his teeth.

  Two braves held Catherine and two held Kelly. Both women appeared disheveled and highly agitated, as if they had fought hard, but finally gave up struggling. All four braves seemed to be awaiting instructions from Wanalancet, while they gaped at the two women eagerly and longingly. He suspected it wouldn’t be long before Wanalancet gave his braves what they wanted.

  He glanced over at Sam. He could tell his brother itched to pull his knife, but Sam would think with his head not just his gut. Men who didn’t wound up dead.

  Sam turned silently, and they quickly headed back toward William and Bear.

  His mind raced faster than he walked. The Indian that had escaped when he killed Bomazeen must have told Wanalancet about Jane escaping and confirmed that she was as beautiful as Bomazeen had undoubtedly claimed. The more striking a woman, the more Bomazeen would have gotten for her in trade. As they all suspected, Bomazeen had singled Jane out for the Chief for her beauty and red hair. The Chief would also have learned that her family was following the Great Indian Warpath. Wanalancet would be familiar with the trail, used for centuries by the northern and southern tribes for trade and war. For the Chief, it would just be a matter of staying out of sight of other travelers until he caught up to Jane.

  As soon as they were out of earshot of the camp, he quietly asked Sam, “Why did that son-of-a-bitch follow this far into the wilderness? And how do we kill them?”

  “The Chief must have made a wedding pact with his Great Spirit,” Sam whispered. “In Wanalancet’s mind, he was already wed to Jane. I’ve heard of similar spirit pacts when they chose wives from neighboring tribes. Wanalancet suffered the humiliation of losing Jane twice and must have decided that the Great Spirit demanded that he claim her himself. Whatever his motivation, Wanalancet is obsessed with having Jane. If we don’t respond correctly, we could all die.”

  “Make yourself think like a Captain again. We need a strategy,” Stephen urged, refusing to give in to his panic. “I’ll do the same.”

  He started moving back toward the others. By the time they reached William and Bear, a plan gelled in his mind. It was risky, but it stood a chance.

  Under normal circumstances, he would have no doubts. However, he had just been through hell and they were all about to go there again. But he felt considerably stronger and warmer, and his wounds had stopped bleeding. He could do this. He would do it. For Jane. For his daughters.

  Bear and William stood together loading their weapons, with ball and powder, on the slim chance that the powder would be dry enough to fire.

  “Everyone at camp appears to be unharmed. But,” he hesitated still unable to believe it himself, “Wanalancet and four braves are holding them all captive.”

  “Wanalancet!” Bear exclaimed. “The Pennacook Chief?”

  “Keep your voices down, and listen carefully,” Sam warned. “Wanalancet has come for Jane. In his mind, they are already married.”

  “She’s my wife!” Stephen swore. His hands clenched. He wanted to strangle the bastard.

  “That’s unimportant to him. His braves will want the other two women as well. Stephen, you’re weary, cold, and injured, but I need you to act stronger than you feel.”

  “I feel fine,” Stephen spat.

  “Good. The rain’s drizzle washed the remaining blood off you. You must appear fearless and strong. The wolves’ hides on your shoulders will impress Wanalancet. The Algonquian tribes revere the wolf’s spirit and believe the animal’s hide can make you strong, savage, and cunning. Believe that yourself.”

  Stephen did believe it. “I’d gladly turn into one of these damn wolves if it would stop the bastard from taking Jane,” he cursed. His blood hot with his wrath, he stood taller and clenched his fists.

  “Good. Wanalancet will sense that,” Sam said. “What are your ideas, Stephen?”

  “We intimidate him, make him realize I killed Bomazeen, and will kill him too. We show him our strength,” Stephen said. “Then we appeal to his honor. Make him understand that stealing a man’s wife is dishonorable and evil. That I have an ability to kill evil men. If it works, we stand a chance of changing his mind about stealing Jane.”

  “How?” William asked. “He won’t be easily intimidated.”

  “Bear, you have the strength of bears in your body, and in your necklace. Let Wanalancet see that too. William, do you have one of your old lawman badges in your coat?” Stephen asked.

  “Yes, right here,” William said, reaching into his waistcoat. “I kept one for luck.”

  “Good, we could use some luck. Put it on. He may know what it means and believe you are a warrior because of it. With or without the badge, you are a warrior, so look like one. Wanalancet will know of Sam and his knife. Sam is intimidating just standing there. The four of us must stride into that camp as though we have no fear and they do not worry us.”

  “I agree,” Sam said. “Hold your heads high and let your strength show on your face. Hold your weapons at the ready but do not use them until I do. Understand?”

  “If he has hurt Jane or if he even steps upon her shadow, I’m using my weapon. And I’m going to kill him,” Stephen vowed.

  “He hasn’t come this far to harm her. Clearly, he’s obsessed with her. Besides, she’s no good to him dead or injured. He will want to kill you. Probably what he’s waiting for,” Sam told him. “You must make him realize that your spirit is strong and that your spirit also claims Jane.”

  “Will that work?” William asked.

  “It just might,” Bear said, “if not, we’ll kill them.”

  “Indeed. But our goal is that nobody dies. Not us and not them. Jane will only be safe if we can finally convince Wanalancet that he cannot have her,” Sam said, “and get him to go back to the White Mountains. No matter what Wanalancet says, be careful what you say. Put steel in your eyes and let them speak for you. If you have ever trusted me, trust me on this. If we are forced to use our weapons, I’ll kill the Chief. Bear you take the brave closest to you with your hatchet. William and Stephen, spread out a little and stand ready to fire at the brave closest to each of you. Then both of you fire your second pistol at the remaining brave. With all this moisture, your weapons may not fire so be prepared to move fast and use your knives or hatchets. Understand?”

  “What about John?” Bear asked.

  “He’s tied up and bleeding a little. They’ve tied the children around a tree. All three women have their hands tied. Wanalancet is just waiting for us,” Sam explained.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Stephen said, pulling his pistols. “They took Jane once. I’m not about to let that happen again.”

  Leaving their horses tied, the group made their way
to camp. As Stephen suspected, Wanalancet heard them coming.

  “Watch out!” Jane screamed.

  “We come to talk,” Sam yelled calmly, in the Algonquian language.

  As they entered the clearing, four bows pointed arrows at each of them, but Wanalancet held his braves back with a motion of his arm. Stephen assumed Wanalancet would want to see his enemy before he ordered them killed and because the Chief held the women, he had the advantage and he knew it. They could not charge the Pennacook without risking the lives of the women.

  They approached slowly and cautiously, Sam clutching his long knife in a clenched fist, Bear gripping his big hatchet and a pistol. Stephen and William each held two pistols. All four strode forcefully towards the cook fire. He glanced at Sam and saw the warrior in his brother—his defiant jaw set, lips pursed, and hard eyes intense. Bear looked nearly as threatening as Sam, and William’s features were dark and menacing.

  Then he turned his gaze forward and his eyes met Jane’s. His heart leapt out to her. She needed him. His girls and Little John needed him. His family needed him.

  He would be a warrior too, by God.

  Chapter 42

  Jane gasped at the sight of Stephen. She was overjoyed to see him alive but his wild and daunting appearance shocked her. Black stubble covered his face in a dark intimidating shadow. His hair, which had grown to shoulder length on their journey, hung dark and wet, framing his pale and scratched face. He looked exceedingly powerful, his broad chest clearly visible without his shirt. What appeared to be two wolves’ hides, hung across and down both shoulders, making him seem like a frightening barbaric warrior and his cobalt eyes held an enigmatic look she had never seen before.

  The sight of him renewed her strength. But the danger he was about to face filled her with foreboding and apprehension.

  The four stopped, with William and Bear flanking Stephen and Sam. She could now see their faces clearly. The four bristled with anger as if they wanted to tear these Indians apart and break every arrow in their quivers! She could not believe how menacing and fierce they all seemed. Even William’s handsome face twisted in a vicious sneer. And Bear, the gentle giant, could not look any more blood curdling if he were a real bear. In Sam, she saw more than a daunting appearance. He exuded valor and a bold courage. That’s what she had seen radiating from Stephen’s eyes! Bravery. She glanced again at her husband and his courage filled her heart.