Dorothy Garlock - [Annie Lash 03] (14 page)

Linus’s grin widened, and his eyes glistened with unvoiced pleasure. He was still smiling when they left the shed.

The settler led the way to the larger building. The minute they entered, two Indians went out the back.

“My potash works,” MacMillan said. “Know anythin’ ’bout potash?”

“Nothing at all,” Light said.

MacMillan chuckled. “Ya start with a pile of wood ashes,” he said and continued on. “Got the idey when I cleared a spot a farmland. We downed the trees one year, burned ’em the next. I got to thinkin’ them ashes’d make lye after a time and when the water is boiled out, ya get the potash.” He showed Light an iron pot holding gray powder. “That’s called pearl ash. Not easy work, but it sells good downriver. We boil some of it with animal fat to make soap.

“I’m figgerin’ on having a settlement here. Folks comin’ upriver all the time now: trappers and settlers. Good land for crops right here without goin’ any farther. Only one drawback.” His eyes twinkled. “Man has to run after he sows seed to keep ahead of the crops a jumpin’ up behind him.”

That brought a smile from Light and encouraged MacMillan to continue.

“Might even have a town on this bend someday, what with the salt works back in the cave and the potash. Miz Mac ain’t fond of the idey. ’Course we won’t see a full-blown town, but our younguns will. Be mighty proud to have ya and yore woman a part of it. We’ll give ya a hand settin’ up if ya’d want to squat here and dig in.”

“Thank you, but I’d not be much good as a farmer.”

“Didn’t think ya’d want to.”

*  *  *

In the middle of the afternoon Light and Maggie prepared to leave the homestead. At the edge of the clearing Maggie looked back to see the MacMillan girls lined up beside their mother. All were waving good-bye.

“They liked me, Light.” There was a kind of wonderment in Maggie’s voice.

“They did,
ma petite.
It was no surprise to me.” Light threw his arm across her shoulders.

“Will we be back?”

“
Oui,
you will see your friends again.”

Several canoes, a raft and two flatboats were moored in the creek that ran alongside MacMillan’s homestead. Light directed Maggie to the canoe he had purchased for two of his precious hoard of coins. After a few instructions from Light, Maggie proved to be an able hand with the paddle. By the time they reached the faster water of the river, they had settled into a rhythm, and the canoe slid smoothly through the water toward Eli’s boat.

“What’ll we do without horses, Light?”

“I want to talk to you about that, pet. It’s gettin’ late in the year for us to start across the plains. I’m thinkin’ we will stay somewhere near here for the winter. It’ll take time to build a shelter and lay in supplies for winter.”

“Oh, could we? Will we be close enough so I can see Aee and Bee sometimes?”

“It is possible,
ma chère.
”

Light’s mind was forging ahead. The crickets were singing, which meant they would have a killing frost anytime. The tree limbs would soon be bare, and the cold north wind would sweep the dry, crisp leaves along the ground. He wanted to take a look at the country on the other side of the river and get some idea about the abundance of game so he’d know what he could count on when winter came. They would live off the land as much as possible. Other provisions he would buy from MacMillan.

He felt no obligation to be part of Nielson’s crew. This was the place and the time to break with the Swede. Something about Nielson created a restlessness in him. It was not only the way he looked at Maggie, it was the way Eli looked at
him.

When they reached the flatboat, they found Eli lying on a pallet. Paul was on his knees beside him trying to get him to drink tea.

Otto Kruger sat on the bank above the craft, his back to a tree, a keg of Eli’s whiskey beside him.

Light tied the canoe to the boat and he and Maggie scrambled aboard.

“What’s the matter with Eli?” Maggie went immediately to where he lay.

“
Mon petit chou!
It’s glad I am that you’ve come back. Eli is burning with a fever. He is sick. Very sick.”

“He was a’right when we left.”

Paul threw up his hands and sputtered in French.

“Speak English,” Light said sharply when he saw the anxious look on Maggie’s face. “She can’t understand you.”

“Forgive me,
madame.
I am so . . . worried.”

Light knelt down and placed the back of his hand against Eli’s forehead, then touched his arms and placed his hand inside his shirt.

“The fever will burn his brain. We wet him down.”

Taking a bucket from a hook on the side of the shed, Light lowered it into the river and filled it. Starting with Eli’s bare feet he poured the water over him, then went back for another bucketful.

“I wet his shirt,
m’sieur,
and wrap it about his head. No?” Paul’s face was clouded with worry. He knelt beside the delirious man.

Eli thrashed around on the pallet, his hands flying up as if to ward off an attack. He muttered, his eyes opened suddenly and his hand lashed out, striking Maggie on the shoulder and knocking her back on her heels.

“
Madame!
” Paul hastened to explain. “He did not know . . . he did not mean to—”

“I know that. Hold his foot so that he’ll not hurt it more.”

“
Fraulein!
” Kruger’s speech was whiskey-slurred. “He vill soon be det! Den who be boss?”

Maggie turned on him. “Hush yore nasty mouth, ya bald-headed . . . old . . . buzzard.”

The German hooted with laughter. “I like voman vit’ fire.”

“Ignore him, pet,” Light murmured. “Take the wet rag from around Eli’s ankle and apply another poultice.”

“I grind the
gonoshay
leaves between two stones as
madame
had done,” Paul said.

Maggie took the slab of bark holding the pulverized herb and added enough water from the water barrel to make a sticky paste. She applied it carefully to the swollen angry flesh of Eli’s ankle. She took one of the rags her mother had put in her pack to use when she had her monthly flow. While she was wrapping Eli’s foot, it crossed her mind that she had finished her woman’s time just before she left home and it had not come again.

Was there a child already growing in her belly?

Thinking of that secret part of her body, her eyes sought her husband. Just looking at him sent her heart to fluttering in remembrance of what they had done together. She tingled as she thought of the two of them warm and naked beneath the blankets: his being hard and deep inside her and his hot splash of seed awakening a soft explosion from her own body.

Maggie lowered her head to hide the blush that covered her face. Her mother had told her it was a man’s right to do as he wished in the marriage bed. She had not, however, mentioned how enjoyable it would be for the woman or that she had the privilege of pleasuring herself on her man’s body. Light had whispered to her that she had a right as his wife to reach for him when she felt the need.

She remembered the first part of their journey as being the most wonderful time of her life. She longed to be alone with her man again. Light was the only person she had ever known who didn’t seem to think her odd. He did not think it unnatural for her to travel the woods at night or to be unafraid of animals or sing and dance when the mood struck her.

She smoothed the hair back from Eli’s fevered brow. They couldn’t leave him while he was sick. The man who lay fever-bound on the pallet had become dear to her, but not in the way Light was dear to her. She liked Eli very much though. In just the few short days they had known him, she had come to trust him completely. She glanced at Light and found that he was looking at her as she stroked Eli’s brow, his clearly defined features devoid of expression.

Maggie sat back on her heels. She wanted Light to
like
Eli. At times she thought he did, and at other times she thought he did not not.

When she stood, she caught Light staring upriver and followed his gaze. Four paddlers dipped into the river rhythmically, sending a canoe speeding through the water. Maggie soon recognized MacMillan and one of his girls in the front of the craft, an Indian and a Negro in the back.

From a few yards out MacMillan threw a rope to Light, who pulled the canoe close to the boat and secured it. After MacMillan boarded, he held a hand out to assist Aee.

“Heared ya got a sick man.”

Neither Paul nor Maggie stopped to wonder how MacMillan knew Eli had taken a turn for the worse. Light, however, remembered the settler saying that nothing went on up or down this section of the river without his knowing about it. The scout filed the thought in the back of his mind and listened to what MacMillan was saying to Paul.

“The man be sick a’right. Take a look, Aee. If she don’t figger it’s a catchin’ sickness,” he said to Paul, “we’ll help ya pole upriver to our landin’ if ya wants. My woman is a smart hand at doctorin’, but Miz Mac ain’t in no shape right now to be traipsin’ ’round. Her time’s nigh to drop the babe.”

Aee knelt down beside Eli and looked closely at his face and neck. She pulled down the neck of his shirt to look at his chest, then his upper arms.

“There’s no spots on him, Pa.”

MacMillan nodded and spoke to Paul. “What’ll it be, man?”

“We be glad fer help,
mon ami.
”

In response to a wave of MacMillan’s hand, the two men in the canoe scrambled aboard and took up a pole. Paul slipped the mooring line holding the craft to the shore and the boat began to drift out from the bank.

Kruger jumped to his feet and shouted. Paul ignored him.

“
Verdammt!
” The German let out a bellow of rage and leaped to the deck of the boat, leaving the keg of whiskey beside the tree. “Sonabitch! Ya’d leaf me!”

“
Dieu!
Be glad to be rid of ya!” Paul shouted with more anger than Light had heard from him before.

“Ya vant I kill ya?” Kruger started for Paul, his ham-like fists clenched. He stopped suddenly when he felt the prick of Light’s knife in his back.

“Pole or go over the side.”

The whiskey Kruger had consumed made him brave. He moved to turn on Light but was stopped when the pressure of the knife increased.

“I cut yore t’roat den I take yore voman.”

“Touch her
one
time and I’ll cut your heart out.” There was a deadly menace in Light’s voice. He prodded Otto again with the tip of his knife.

“
Mein Gott!
I vill kill ya.” Kruger’s eyes met those of MacMillan, then drifted to the Negro and on to the stoic face of the Indian. They were both ready and waiting to jump him if MacMillan gave the nod. The German was not so drunk that he couldn’t figure the odds.

“Vatch yore back, breed,” he snarled and moved away to pull a pole from the slots.

The six men poled the craft, leaving Maggie to work the new steering oar and Aee the job of tending to Eli.

She dipped a cloth in the bucket of water and bathed Eli’s head. She had never been this close to a young and handsome white man. This one was helpless as a babe, which both thrilled and scared her. As she bathed his head, she studied his face. His forehead was broad, his nose straight, his mouth thin and firm. Thick, light-brown hair grew back from his forehead and fell down over his ears. He looked younger than he had the day before—almost boyish.

Eli muttered a few unintelligible words, opened his eyes and looked directly into hers. Aee was so startled that she backed away before she realized that although his sky-blue eyes were clear, they were not seeing her.

“Pretty,” he murmured and lifted a hand toward her face.

She grabbed his wrist and forced it back to his side. He groped for her hand and held it tight. She could barely speak for the excitement that crowded her lungs.

“Be . . . still, mister.”

“Hoist the sail, Paul,” Eli whispered hoarsely, then bitingly, “Goddamm bastard. A slutty savage! Got ta see—Got ta know—”

“Shhh . . . Be still.”

“Bitch! Injun . . . bi . . . tch—” Eli’s lids closed, and his voice faded.

Aee was taken aback by the cruel words and blinked moisture from her eyes. The hurt was there even though she knew that he was out of his head. Fever did that to a person.

“Ya’ll be a’right.’ Aee spoke without a trace of sympathy in her voice. “Go t’ sleep,” she said when his eyes flew open and he continued to look at her.

“Mag . . . gie,” he murmured. “Mag . . . gie,” he said again as his lids fluttered down over his eyes.

He wanted Maggie! Aee tried to pull her hand from his, but his fingers tightened. She decided to leave it there until he was completely asleep lest she rouse him again. It was exciting to have her hand held even though she knew that he didn’t realize it was
her
hand he was holding.

Aee remembered how his eyes had passed over her and rested on Maggie the day before, when she had come with her father to invite the travelers to the homestead. He had haughtily refused the invitation, saying he had to stay near his boat and guard his goods.