Dorothy Garlock (25 page)

“I want us ta go from here, Light.” Maggie looked smaller than ever standing beside Jeff. Her head scarcely came to his armpit.

“Stay and noon with us,” Callie invited.

“No.” Maggie shook her head vigorously and pulled on Light’s hand. “I want ta go from here, Light.”

“
Oui,
little one. We will go.” Light’s voice was full of amusement. He winked at Jeff. “How can one resist one so beautiful, no?”

“Is there anything you need?” Jeff asked.

“There is nothing,
mon ami.
” His dark, expressive eyes looked into Jeff’s for an instant before he let Maggie pull him away. “
À demain,
” he called over his shoulder.

*  *  *

They were like two children as they leaped over the rail fence and sped into the woods. Inside the dark, quiet forest, Maggie’s laughter rang out, a trilling, happy sound. Light tugged on her hand and they stopped beneath a huge cottonwood tree, its trunk entwined with the stems of grapevines, its branches filled with their foliage.

Maggie looked up at him, her green eyes sparkling. She looked beyond him as if she saw something. Light knew this was a ploy and she was poised for flight. He smiled and reached for her, then let her slip out of his hands. Instantly, she darted behind the tree, leaving peals of laughter behind her. Light waited a moment, then wheeled around and sped through the shadowed forest. She was where he thought she would be, and he moved up behind her and clasped her in his arms.

“I got you,
cherie,
” he whispered menacingly. “You did not hide well. You wanted me to find you, no?”

“Yes.” Maggie turned in his arms and clasped hers about his neck. “I’m yore woman, Light.”

“Woman?” He ran his hands down her slight form. “You’re hardly more than a child,
ma cherie,
” he teased.

“I kiss like a woman.” She held up her slightly parted lips and Light took them against his own. The kiss was gentle and sweet at the beginning, then her lips worked on his, her tongue darted into his mouth, and he unconsciously increased the pressure of his arms and his lips. He drank from her mouth greedily for a long moment before he lifted his head and looked down into her face. He was stunned by the depth of his emotion. Something that he had thought long dead had come alive in him.

“See? I tol’ ya I’m a woman. I c’n make ya tremble!” The eyes that looked into his were like sparkling pools of clear, cool water.

“Vixen! Don’t try that on another man,” he warned in a stern, quiet voice. “Another man might not stop with a kiss.”

“I don’t want ya ta stop,” she whispered and wiggled against him.

“Behave yourself,
cherie.
”

“Yore are my man. I kiss only you,” Maggie said tartly. “They grab and their mouths’re all wet and slobbery—ugh!” She hid her face against his shirt. “I like fer you ta touch me, Light. I feel all swoony, and my heart goes like I’ve been a running for a long way. Now when we kiss I get a hurty feelin’ and all wet between my legs. Why do I do that, Light?”

“Oh,
cherie,
I think perhaps you are a woman!” He held her to him and rocked her gently in his arms. A fierce desire to protect her came over him. This little wood nymph was as innocent and as rare as snow in the summer.

“Am I yore woman, Light?”

His woman? He felt a queer pant of fear. He didn’t want to love a woman, he didn’t want to expose his heart to the pain of loving and losing. Yet the lonely years stretched ahead and this precious child—

“Light?”

“We’ll see, little one. Come. We go downriver by canoe.” He started off in a slow trot. Maggie’s hand worked its way into his and she kept pace easily. He looked down at her and smiled. A new peace of mind had come to him.

*  *  *

Toward evening, while Annie Lash was taking the clean, dry clothes from the rail fence, Jeff went into the kitchen to talk with Callie.

“Where’s Amos?”

“He saw Jute coming in from the field and went racing off to meet him. I swan, Jefferson. That boy gets wilder every day.”

“Not any wilder than any other boy, I expect. Callie . . .”

The way he said her name brought a chill of fear to Callie. He had bad news to tell her. Will? Oh, dear God! Had something happened to Will? Did the men that Maggie spoke of—

“Jason is on his way here.”

At first his words were a relief. Will was all right! Then the full impact of what he had said struck her. She felt her face freeze and then a trembling set in.

“Oh, no,” she whispered fearfully.

“He’s with another man. Light has been watching them. He said they’d be here tomorrow.”

“What’ll I do, Jefferson?” It was a pathetic plea for help.

“What do you want to do, Callie?” he asked gently.

“I don’t want to see him ever again!” She trembled violently. Please, please, her inner voice cried. How could she tell Amos? She had to get a hold of herself, she thought wildly. She didn’t dare let Amos know how scared she was.
Will.
He would know what to do about Amos. How would her son act when he saw the man who had abused him so terribly? She didn’t know.

“You’ll have to see him, but you don’t have to . . . have him in your bed if you don’t want to. He gave up that right when he left you and Amos here alone.”

“Does Will know he’s on his way here?” Callie asked. Her time with him seemed like a dream now that she was plunged back into the nightmare.

“Yes, and he’d ride out to kill him if Jason wasn’t my half brother. I’ll handle Jason. I don’t want any trouble between him and Will.”

“Sometimes it’s hard for me to remember that you and Jason had the same mother. You’re so different,” she said tiredly. “Jason has been like a millstone around your neck for years, and now, me and the boys are an added burden.”

“You and the boys are a pleasurable burden, Callie. You’ll always have a home here with me and Annie Lash.”

“Thank you, Jefferson.” Calm and dry-eyed, she turned back to preparing the evening meal. “Jefferson . . . did Light say who was with him?”

“He said a dressed-up dandy with his own body servant was with him. You know the type Jason usually hooks up with; a fop, a gambler—that sort.”

“What would a man like that be doing out here?”

Jeff shrugged. “Light heard rumors that he has big plans for hauling settlers upriver. Claims to have a line of keelboats in New Orleans.”

“Something big. That would interest Jason.”

“Jason dreams of rebuilding his pa’s fortune. I keep telling myself that Jason can’t be all bad. He’s got some of our mother’s blood in him.”

“It worries me, Jefferson. Amos and Abe have the same blood,” she said dejectedly.

“But they won’t be spoiled rotten as Jason was. Will and I will see to it.”

Callie worked automatically, filling the teakettle, stirring up the corn pone. Her mind clung to Jeff’s words,
Will and I will see to it.

There was none of the gaiety at the evening meal that had been so evident at the breakfast table that morning. Callie sat quietly with Abe on her lap and spooned small bits of food into his mouth. She seldom lifted her fork to her own lips. Will scowled down at his plate and grunted an occasional reply to Amos. Jeff’s dark eyes missed nothing as they traveled from his sister-in-law to his friend. He had come out to the fence where Annie Lash was taking in the dry clothes and told her the news Light had brought. Later, she had heard him talking to Will while they sat on the porch waiting for supper; his voice calm and even, Will’s angry and laced with curses.

The meal would have been eaten in total silence if not for Amos’s
continual line of chatter. He was enjoying himself immensely. The grownups seldom interrupted him. His mother had said “hush up” only one time and that was when he was telling about Abe eating the rolly pollies.

When Will finished eating he reached over and took Abe from Callie’s arms and went to sit in the rocking chair. He held the sleepy child to his shoulder and gently patted his back. Abe yawned and stretched contentedly, snuggled his face into Will’s shoulder, and was soon asleep.

Annie Lash helped with clearing away the table, feeling an urgency to hurry, not only so she could be alone with Jeff, but to give Callie some time with Will. She dried the last of the plates and placed them on the shelf.

“Amos, how would you like me to start another story tonight?”

“I’d like it! You tell good’ns, Annie Lash. Tell one ’bout ships.” He fairly danced with excitement.

“All right. I know a good one about ships and I’ll tell it to you in my room. But first, I think we’d better wash some of that dirt off your face and hands and put your feet in the washpan. You know I don’t like dirty feet on my bed. Besides, if you’re ready for bed we won’t have to end the story so soon.”

“Can’t you tell it in here?” Nothing dampened Amos’s spirits as fast as the thought of a wet washcloth.

“Not tonight. We’d wake Abe,” she whispered.

“Ol’ stinky ruins ever’thin’,” he muttered.

“Run and get your nightshirt so we can get started.”

Annie Lash’s eyes sought Jeff’s nervously, hoping he would understand her reason for postponing their time alone together.

“Can I listen to the story, too?” He smiled, a consuming tenderness in his dark eyes.

She smiled back, the ache of love on her tremulous lips.

*  *  *

Callie was weary, but calm now. She had managed to stumble through the horrible meal and had not broken down and cried. The shock had worn away to some extent, and she had regained some use of her mind. What she had feared would happen, had happened. But now she was not alone. Thank God for Will, Annie Lash, and Jeff. The heavy lump of dread in the pit of her stomach had lain there since Jeff had told her Jason was on his way back. It had sapped her strength, controlled her thoughts. Now she was alone with Will. Will, her love. She turned to see him sitting with her child on his shoulder, the big hand that could grip an axe handle and split a log with one stroke gently cupped the sleeping head of her child—her child by another man. What made some men so full of goodness and others so mean and rotten?

“Abe’s sleepin’.” His voice broke the silence.

He held the child as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do, and the sight of it made her heart slip out of rhythm. Her voice stuck and it was an effort to bring it out of her tight throat. “I’ll put him to bed.”

“I’ll do it.”

She followed him to the bedroom and smoothed the blanket over the straw tick in the box Henry had made just after Abe was born, then moved aside to make room for Will. He laid the baby down, gently rolled him over onto his stomach, and drew the cover up over him. Tears started in Callie’s eyes and she left the room quickly to stand at the small kitchen window that looked toward the woods.

Almost immediately, Will was behind her, his arms pulling her back against him, his lips kissing the side of her face. All the agony of the past few hours gushed from her like a storm. She turned and flung her arms about him, blindly seeking comfort. Strong arms drew her against his solid chest. Her face found refuge in the hollow beneath his chin and the floodgates broke. She cried as she had not done in a long, long time.

Will cradled her to him, rocking her, stroking her hair, whispering to her, “Sweet, sweet Callie. Let it all out, my darlin’ girl. I’m here. Yore Will’ll not let nothin’ hurt ya.”

When it seemed to her she had cried herself dry she found herself cuddled on his lap. He sat on the short bunk and smoothed her golden hair back from her wet face. His shirt and throat were wet with her tears. She felt as weak as a baby, but so safe, and so at peace.

“Do ya feel better?” Will’s lips were against her ear.

She bent her head so she could lift the hem of her skirt and wipe her eyes and nose. She was almost giddy, as if her tears had washed away her strength.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

He pressed her head down on his shoulder. “Don’t be ashamed of cryin’, darlin’ girl. Ya’ve had to bear more’n any woman ought to bear. But I’m here, now. Ya don’t have to face anythin’ by yore self again.”

The words were muffled in her hair. His hand traveled down her back. He could feel the warmth of her body through her thin dress and the steady beating of her heart against his. He wanted to kill Jason Pickett, provoke him into doing something that would justify killing him. Yet he knew he couldn’t do it, no matter how badly Jason needed killing. How could he face the boys and tell them he’d killed their pa so he could have them and their ma? And there was Jeff, who, for the sake of his mother, would do everything he could to prevent trouble between him and Jason. There had to be another way, and the one that had kept his thoughts occupied while he rocked Callie in his arms was the most logical one.

“Ah, Will. You’re so comforting.” A strange, relaxing warmth was spreading through Callie. “It’s like being in the cellar during a storm. All the trouble in the world can’t touch me as long as I’m here.”

Will felt indescribably moved by her words. Her hand stroked his cheek with a little comforting gesture. He was acutely aware of her soft body, of the warm flush of her skin, the soft sweetness of her mouth. This woman and her children were home. He would never leave them; not for Tom Jefferson, not if a hundred Aaron Burrs were found innocent of treason. Somehow he’d find the words to make Jeff understand that he had given a year and a half of his life to Tom Jefferson, and that was all the bastard was going to get!

His eyes wondered over the upturned face of the woman in his arms, then found and held hers. They were full of concern for him now. His arms tightened and he slowly lowered his mouth to hers.

Callie lifted trembling lips to meet his kiss. They slackened and parted as his mouth possessed hers with insistent pressure. He kissed her mouth, her face, her ears, her throat, before returning to her mouth and making it his own. Callie closed her eyes as his mouth, hungry for her, swept her every nerve with intense pleasure. She heard his harsh breathing in her ear, the hoarsely whispered words of love.