LeClerc 01 - Autumn Ecstasy (31 page)

“You milk; I’ll fix dinner.” Linsey turned toward the door. “We’ll discuss milking arrangements later!”

They laughed at the baby’s first taste of the milk. Startled by the new flavor, dark eyes opened wide; he smacked his lips several times, then searched hungrily for the nipple. He made his dissatisfaction well known each time Linsey stopped the feeding in order to burp him.

After his late meal, she placed him on the bed against the wall where he would be safe. Chattering Squirrel slept peacefully in the center of the bed, undisturbed by the noise his brother had made.

Linsey walked back to the table where Kaleb sat contentedly watching her care for the baby. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave a slight squeeze.

“Thank you, Kaleb.”

“Tweren’t nothin’ ta thank me fer, gal,” he responded gruffly.

“Yes it is. You’ve stayed with me and the boys so that Bear could return to the village with peace of mind. You spent two days walking to get the goat and made sure Squirrel wasn’t frightened by it. I think there’s a lot to thank you for.”

“Hit gives me pleasure ta watch you and the young’uns, gal.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Hits been a mighty long time since I remembered thar’s good things in life. Sometimes a man ‘members only the bad and gets ta thinkin’ thar ain’t no good left.”

Linsey poured him the last of the coffee, then sat down across from him. “Sometimes it’s bard for anyone to remember the good. Then something happens, and we wonder why we thought the world such a terrible place to live.”

Kaleb thought of Mary and realized her image wasn’t as clear as it had always been. It was hazy around the edges, as if he were looking through a fog, but it was a peaceful feeling.

“Ya’ve had a long day, gal, en that babe’s gonna be wantin’ more a that milk afore long. Ya’d better be a’findin’ sleep whilst ya can.”

“Good night, Kaleb,” she replied, moving toward the bed. He would sleep on the far side of the cabin, on the floor, as he’d done every night.

Linsey slid onto the edge of the bed, pulling the blankets around her shoulders. Chattering Squirrel wiggled until his warm body was snuggled against hers. Stroking his soft hair, she closed her eyes. As she drifted to sleep, her last thoughts were of Bear, wondering if he missed her half as much as she missed him.

Kaleb sat at the table long into the night, watching the glowing fire and listening to the silence. Occasional sounds from the bed reminded him that he wasn’t alone. It felt good to have the responsibilities of Linsey and the children. It had been a long time since someone had needed him.

He thought of the terrified girl he’d rescued several months earlier. She had matured quickly, becoming a woman any man would be proud to claim as his mate. She was confident in her abilities but had maintained her femininity rather than hardening from her experiences.

That she adored the Bear was as obvious as a full moon at midnight. Kaleb wondered what would happen now that spring had come. He knew Bear would insist on taking her back to the city. It was something Kaleb himself would do. He also knew Linsey would demand to stay. He had no doubt that she would use every weapon in her feminine arsenal. It would take a strong man to win the coming battle, for he would fight not only Linsey but himself. And Kaleb didn’t think Bear was strong enough to win. It was obvious to anyone who looked that the mighty Bear loved the woman with a passion far surpassing even his tremendous strength.

Two head-strong people were about to lock horns, and Kaleb smiled in the darkness. If he had any money, he knew whom he’d place his bet on. He wondered how long it would take for Bear to discover he’d met his match.

In less than three weeks, the death toll at the Shawnee village climbed to over six hundred men, women and children. Within a month, eight more would be added to that total — eight who had survived the measles only to die from complications of the disease rather than the disease itself. A tribe claiming just over seven hundred members now numbered less than one hundred. It was not the first time a white man’s disease had annihilated the Indians … nor would it be the last.

Bear returned eleven days after taking Linsey and the babe to the safety of the cabin. Haggard, exhausted, he walked quietly to the open door, stopping at the sight that greeted his weary eyes. Linsey sat at the table, the baby cradled in her arms. She talked softly to the tiny child as she held the bottle to his mouth.

Bear felt a justifiable envy for the baby, wanting to be cradled in Linsey’s arms, needing to be held and reassured. The contentment radiating from inside the cabin was such a drastic difference from the total destruction he’d just left, it was difficult for him to accept.

Linsey looked up and was startled to find Bear at the door. She set down the bottle, swung the baby up to her shoulder and stood. Wanting to run and throw herself in his arms, she tried to refrain, but the look on her face told him everything he needed to know.

“You’re home.” It sounded so silly saying something so obvious.

“I’m home.” He pulled her into his arms. “I’m home.”

He held her tightly against him, careful not to crush the baby. For long days and even longer nights, he’d dreamed of holding her again, telling her all the things he needed to tell her. He had learned, as never before, how fragile life was, and he wanted to protect her by taking her back to the city. But he’d also discovered that he’d never be happy without her.

Bear fought an inner battle; should he protect her or should he selfishly keep her with him and pray for the best?

The baby let them know he did not appreciate his meal being interrupted, and Linsey reluctantly pulled away from Bear and returned to the table.

“It’s over?”

“Yes.” Bear entered the cabin, feeling its strangeness after being away so long.

“Wolf?” she asked in a whisper.

“Discouraged, weary beyond words, but healthy.”

“Thank God.”

Bear sat down across from her while she finished feeding the baby. Linsey laid the infant on the bed, then turned to Bear. She could feel his depression from across the room. His shoulders slumped; his arms hung limply to his side. She hurried to him, slowly massaging his shoulders.

“The Grandmother?” Linsey was still in awe of the old woman and had worried that she would become ill. At her age, there was little doubt that she could survive the disease.

Bear remembered the last few days and shook his head with amazement. “That old woman is tireless. When Wolf and I would stand around in a daze of exhaustion, she was there forcing us to eat or telling us what needed to be done next. She looks like a slight breeze would blow her away, but I swear she never rested.”

He reached up and grabbed Linsey’s hand, pulling her to his lap. “I tried to get her to rest once, and she told me not to worry about her. Said it wasn’t her time to go yet and she’d get plenty of rest when it was. Her people needed her; how could she let them down?”

Linsey’s touch was tender, offering comfort as no words could ever do. She stroked his face, pulling lightly on his full, dark beard. His eyes were closed, but she had seen his horror reflected in them.

“How many are going to live?” she questioned softly.

“Too few … God, too few. There were no deaths last night or all day today, but there’s a toddler and its baby sister who probably won’t last through the night.

“There’s fourteen, maybe fifteen, who survived the measles, but two are blind, and four or five others are coughing up blood.”

“So they survived, but for what?” Her voice was bitter at the cruel fate that let the few survive only to suffer further.

“I don’t know,
mon ange,
I just don’t know.”

They sat quietly for several minutes, just holding each other, finding comfort from light touches, gentle caresses.

“You need to rest.”

Bear nodded in agreement, but was too weary to make the necessary motions of walking to the bed.

“Where’s Kaleb and Squirrel?”

“Out back somewhere, building a pen for the goat.”

“Goat?”

Linsey smiled and explained how the goat had arrived. Bear chuckled softly, as she had intended for him to, when she told him of her experiences at milking, exaggerating only slightly.

“When Kaleb does it, the milk just flows out, but I swear that goat turns off the pump when I try it!”

“What would your city friends say if they saw you milking a goat?”

“I don’t care!” Linsey climbed off his lap and held out her hand. “Bed! If you’re a good boy and take a nice long nap, I’ll show you my great lack of expertise at goat milking later this evening.”

“You’ve been around the children too long,” he said, standing slowly. “You’re starting to sound like a mother!”

She took his hand and led him to the bed. Bear was so weary he stumbled as he crossed the room, and Linsey suspected it would be tomorrow evening before he woke.

He saw the baby on the far side of the bed and grew concerned. “What if I roll on him?”

“You won’t.” Linsey rolled several furs into a large bolster and placed it near the infant. “There, that should take care of it, but if it doesn’t, believe me that little guy has very strong lungs and will let you know if you’re squashing him.”

She tinned back to Bear and discovered he had stripped. Her gaze roved over him, drinking in the sight of his well-muscled body. Her eyes narrowed at ribs showing under his flesh and his concave stomach. He had lost weight during the siege at the village.

Linsey started to ask him if he’d rather eat first, but Bear sat on the edge of the bed, lay back and stretched. His eyes closed, and before she could pull a blanket over him, he was asleep.

Linsey stood and stared down at him, needing the visual reassurance that he was really home. She dreaded turning her back, afraid he would disappear. There were so many things they had not discussed, among them was when Wolf wanted his children returned. She knew the boys had to go back to their father, but she would miss them desperately and hoped to delay the inevitable as long as possible.

Smoothing Bear’s hair from his forehead, Linsey finally forced herself to move away. She would begin the evening meal before searching out Kaleb and telling him of Bear’s return.

Bear opened his eyes and found himself alone in the cabin. The silence was broken only by the rustle of new leaves in the spring breeze. Stretching, he bit back a moan at the aches and pains running riot through his body. He sat on the edge of the bed, wondering where everyone had gone. Hunger gnawing at his belly, he stood, pulled on his pants and searched for something to eat.

Linsey had left a pot of stew hanging near the fire, which Bear nearly finished before he felt satisfied. He quickly dressed and went in search of Linsey, Kaleb and the boys.

The sun was lowering, which surprised him. He felt like he’d slept longer than a couple of hours. Breathing deeply of the fresh air, Bear knew he could no longer doubt that spring had arrived.

Time to take Linsey home, he thought to himself. The decision was made instantly, easily. He could not submit her to the constant dangers that awaited in the wilderness. It would be easier to Uve alone, knowing she was alive in far off Philadelphia, than to live if she should die in the wilderness.

Now all he had to do was tell her of his decision.

The sounds of voices floating on the breeze drew him to the back of the cabin. Linsey, Kaleb and Chattering Squirrel were near a fenced pen that Kaleb had built during Bear’s absence. The baby in his cradleboard hung from one of the corner fence posts. The goat was being held by Kaleb as Linsey knelt at its side. From the gleeful chuckles he heard, Bear knew she was trying to milk it, perhaps with little success but with a lot of amusement.

Suddenly, feeling left out of their fun, Bear approached. Linsey looked up, and it nearly took his breath away. The sun shone on her hair, making it bum with reddish flames, and her sparkling eyes were a truer green than the leaves on the trees above her head.

Linsey stared at him with equal intensity. She saw that the exhaustion had left his face and his shoulders no longer drooped but were held back in his usual proud stance. His eyes were clear and bright, if still slightly haunted. His smile warmed her heart.

With her attention on Bear, she forgot about the goat she’d been attempting to milk. Impatient with her clumsy fingers, the goat kicked out. It hit the bucket, spilling the small amount of milk she had worked so hard to obtain.

“No, goat!” Linsey’s attention instantly reverted to the animal and the milk being slowly absorbed by the thirsty ground.

Chattering Squirrel clapped his hands, and Kaleb chortled beneath his breath.

“I don’t think it’s funny!” she said, the exasperation filling her voice belied by the smile tugging at her lips.

“Having troubles?” Bear asked when he reached them.

“Now that you’re here, sleepy head, you milk the stupid animal!” Linsey stood, motioning for Bear to take her place.

Bear knelt beside the goat, ignoring Linsey’s smug smile. “Since when does sleeping two or three hours qualify a person as a sleepy head?”