Harris Channing (24 page)

Her full
lips fell into a frown. "I don't know."

He shook
his head and gazed heavenward. "God in heaven, what is it you want of
me?"

Chapter 18

"David
wait!" she called after him, but she knew she had lost him. Knew that her
error in judgment and lack of trust in him was something he wouldn't be able to
overcome. Not where Reg Crocker was concerned.

He didn't
even look back at her when he exited the cabin but he didn't slam the door
either. Didn't even close it. Was this his way of inviting her to follow? Well,
if it weren't she was going to claim it in spite of his intentions. She wasn't
finished with him, not yet.

Lifting
her skirt, she raced out after him, her woolen frock no match for the icy cold
air. Once on the porch, she skidded to a halt, the sight before her taking away
her breath. The sledge loaded with supplies and standing beside Ned the most
beautiful buckskin she had ever seen.

David stepped
off the porch and untied the newcomer, offering Bobbie the reins. "Happy
birthday," he said. "Today was supposed to be the birth of a new life
for me, too." He let out a grunt and narrowed his gaze, the loathing of
his expression even more powerful without his whiskers.

Her
stomach plummeted and guilt bit at her more than the cold air. He had shaved
for her, and cut his hair. With her knees growing weak, she reached out for his
offering. How was it possible he was even more beautiful? His strong jaw, his
dimpled cheek, and the fullness of his lower lip…oh how she wanted to throw
herself at him, but she didn't. She had her pride…even if it was the only thing
she had left.

He shook
his head and looked to the sledge. "I'm going to need that," he said,
bending over and shoving the fresh supplies into the snow.

"What
are you doing?" She set her hand to her chest in hopes that she could ease
the rapid beat of her heart.

With the
chore done, he shoved his foot in the stirrup and swung into Ned's saddle.
"I'm fetching your kin. Get the root cellar ready for them."

"But
David…Reg is out of his mind--"

He lifted
his hand in an obvious attempt to silence and halt her pursuit. "Don't you
think I know that?"

Ignoring
his unspoken order she sped to his side, the buckskin throwing her head up in
the air at the sudden movement. But Bobbie persisted. She wasn't going to let
him go like this. "Let me at least tell you what happened."

"I
know enough," he grumbled. "Now, this time you stay here. Do you
understand me? If you follow I will know how very little you respect the man
who saved your life."

Dropping
the reins she grabbed hold of his leg. "David please, let me come with
you, to make certain--."

"Why?"
he asked, his brow lifted and his face alive with passionate disgust.
"Didn't see enough of him while I was away?" He dug his heels into
Ned's sides and the beast sprinted toward the woods.

"Really
all I did was seek comfort from my family after you abandoned me!" she
shouted after him. "Reg…he…" She pinched her lips together. Should
she tell all? Should she insist he know everything that occurred?

She
lowered her head and decided no. If he were enraged any further, what would he
do? Yes, Reg deserved punishment, but she wouldn't fan the fire that already
sparked within David. He was ready to explode, did she dare strike a match?

"David
please come back." Yet he didn't turn toward her, he simply ducked his
head as he disappeared into the thicket.

And she
didn't blame him for not looking back. He was right, she guiltily conceded. Her
reasons for going were not as innocent as she pretended. She had gone to hurt
him and he was smart enough to see through her lame attempt at revenge.

She stood
where he left her, hoping he would return, the gnawing sting of anxiety very
nearly paralyzing her. What had she done? Had she killed his affection or
worse, sent him on a deadly endeavor?

***

Damn her,
anyway. Why would she do it? Why would she go to the one person he hated more
than any other?
"I was hurt…hurt
that you would leave without even asking me if I was all right!"

He
gnashed his teeth together, his fury only rivaled by his guilt. He had taken
her virginity and in her mind, deserted her. But if she had only waited a few
hours, she would have known his true intent. That he wanted to marry her. To
have a life with her.

But how
could that be when she believed him capable of murdering not only Sarah but an
innocent babe! He swallowed his anger as his thoughts raced from emotion to
logic. He was far from innocent. For hadn't he killed men in his time? Men in
war? Men in retaliation for the death of his wife? Damnation! Damnation!
Damnation! It was no wonder he drank. He always believed himself to be
righteous, but he wasn't. His soul was marred with death and despair.

Pulling
Ned to a halt, he stroked the beast's neck. "I am a monster." The
truth of his words hit him hard and he sat for the longest time, staring
forward but not seeing anything. His mind overflowed with scenes from his life.
Landscapes tainted crimson, memories of his saber cutting, his fists slamming,
and his bullets flying. Horses fell from beneath him in cavalry charges. Women
sobbed over the dead in battlefield after battlefield, where the stink of death
hung on the fog of gun smoke.

He
lowered his head. "There is more than that to me," he mumbled,
searching his mind for something, anything positive.

He delved
into his past, scratching through the unpleasantries of war and Sarah's murder.
To a place that enveloped him in warmth and happiness. He recalled his sparse
office on the town square where he worked to improve the conditions of the poor
in his county. His mind raced to the slave quarters on his mother and father's
plantation, where he secretly paid his mammy and her husband all he could to
see them able to buy their freedom.

"You are such a good son, Davy."
The thought of May's calloused hand on his cheek warmed his
heart even now. The woman was more of a mother to him than his own.

And May's
son, Matthias. After his schooling everyday he went to the boy and had taught
him everything he learned. And then they'd play in the forest out of site of
the overseer.

But all
that was before he went to war. Before he took his first life. Before Sarah had
become his bride…The war with not only the Yankees but with Sarah had worn away
the veneer of his youthful ideology. The man he was and the man he had become
two sides of a weathered coin.

Still, he
grasped for hope that all he had been wasn't lost. And with a glimmer of
realization he found it reflected in Bobbie's wide gray eyes. Yes. Bobbie had
offered him a small glimpse of the goodness that still fought to survive in the
murky, whiskey laden depths of his soul. For even drunk and miserable, hadn't
he offered his knowledge to Roberta to save not only her life but her limbs?

Calmness
swept over him at the thought of her and he allowed himself to let go of his
anger. She had made a mistake and the way she looked at him, the way she clung
to his leg, she realized what she had done was wrong. She played a game and she
paid the price. Yet her gifts to him far outweighed her error in judgment. Her
loving touch, her sweet kisses, her belief in him. He should have never left
her without so much as an explanation. He was every bit as guilty as she was.

Offering
Ned his heel, the pair once again began their journey toward Reg's place, the
horse's hooves sinking in the knee high snow. Each step brought him closer to
Reg and to the problem of how to deal with the man. Would there be a way to
peacefully negotiate the return of Bobbie's family? If not, would he be forced
to use violence to yet again solve a problem? He brought his lower lip between
his teeth and hoped not. For, he didn't relish the idea of putting someone else
in the ground…not even Reginald Crocker.

***

Bobbie
longed to go after him. Everything in her body urged her to saddle up the
buckskin and discretely follow David into the thicket. For if anything happened
to him, it was her fault. Hadn't she used his jealousy in an attempt to hurt
him for hurting her?

Guilt had
tears blinding her, but she did as he instructed. She pulled in the supplies
until all were stacked neatly on the pantry shelves. She tended to the horse,
the sight of the glorious animal only compounding the culpability that ripped
at her insides. The animal was a present…a birthday present! He had remembered
what she said. Had given her the nicest gift ever.

Thoughts
of his clean shaven face and neatly cut hair beat at her will. Why couldn't she
have been patient? Why did she have to allow her temper to get the better of
her? The truth was, she very seldom did things without thought…but since
meeting David, her emotions got the better of her.

With the
sun beginning its daily descent, she trudged toward the root cellar, her toes
aching from the chill of the snow. Pulling open the rickety wooden door, she
looked inside and a shiver of unease cascaded across her body. It was such a
cold, dark, lonely place. A place that was just big enough to store the remains
of her family. The thought of them lying there had her limbs trembling as she
began to remove all the items stored within. A sack full of apples, a half
barrel of musty smelling potatoes, a handful of carrots. Not much fresh food to
get them through winter, but enough to have her lamenting their waste.

Wiping her
eyes on the sleeve of her jacket, she trekked to the barn, pulling the barrel
with her. "Just keep busy," she mumbled. "And David will be back
soon. It will all be all right." Even as she tried to convince herself of
a positive outcome, doubts crept in alongside fresh tears.

She
forcibly shoved the negative thoughts aside and with a sniffle, hoped the
remaining vacant stall would stay cold enough to keep the items fresh until she
could use them.

She
passed by the buckskin and paused, fighting to catch her breath. The mare stood
with her head down as she munched on flakes of hay. Oh, how she envied the
beast. The animal was content and happy to be in from the cold, and filling her
belly. She yearned for that simplicity. Her own stomach ached with a misery that
she longed to purge. Who knew guilt could fill the void of hunger so
absolutely?

But, she
admitted to herself, that guilt was by far the lesser of the emotions that
battled within her. Anxiety and fear of the unknown pummeled her with iron
fists. What if something happened to David? How would she live without him? For
despite all that had come to pass over the course of one day, she loved him.
With all her heart she loved him.

Setting
her hand on the stall door, she vowed that when David returned, she would
convince him of her sincerity. He would know with certainty that she truly
regretted her actions. She would reassure him anyway she could that nothing
like this would ever happen again. He needed to know without a doubt that she
was not like Sarah.

***

David
tied Ned to the hitching post and mounted the steps. He drew in a deep, chilled
breath, trying to clear his mind and ease his dislike of the man. Finally, he
rapped on Reg's door, wondering if it had been a wise move to approach the
monster without his weapon in his hand.

He shook
his head. No need to start the conversation threateningly. No, he'd try a new
tactic. One that he hoped he could manage. For civility and Crocker didn't
really go very well together. But perhaps it was time to forgive and move on,
for both their sakes.

"Reg,
I need to talk to you," he shouted through the door. But there was no
shuffling from the other side. No sound but the whistling of the wind through
the trees. Stepping off the porch he gazed up at the chimney. No tell tale sign
of smoke. The man wasn't home. Well, damnation! Where had the black hearted
bastard gone?

With
daylight waning, he marched toward the barn, hoping to find the family tucked
away in one of the stalls. Pulling open the door, he entered, the smell of
musty hay meeting his nose.

His
stomach roiled at the emptiness that lay before him. Three sheets littered the
barn floor. Three moist sheets, coated with lime. He clenched his jaw and
stumbled from stall to stall in the hope that he would find Bobbie's family.
But each compartment was bare. No tack save a large work horse's harness, no
horses, and very little grain and hay.

He
grimaced. Reg pretended to have funds, pretended to be a man of relative
wealth, but he had nothing.

Pulling
his knit cap over his ears, he left the barn and pondered just what he should
do next. With the sun near set and the world around him turning gray, he
considered going home. Considered it for only a moment, because coming to
Bobbie without her family would shatter her heart and that was something he
only wanted to cherish from this moment on.

With a
moan, he put his rusty tracking knowledge to work. He searched the ground for
fresh sledge tracks. Surely, Reg couldn't do his worst with Bobbie's family
without the ease of transport.