LeClerc 03 - Wild Savage Heart (31 page)

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Authors: Pamela K Forrest

BOOK: LeClerc 03 - Wild Savage Heart
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“We don’t take Injuns,” he said hoarsely, spitting a stream of tobacco juice into the dust at Hawk’s feet.

“I want a room for the lady.” Hawk positioned himself slightly in front of Molly, his rifle cradled prominently in his arms.

“Don’t take no Injun trash, either.”

Molly placed her hand on Hawk’s arm when she detected the stiffening of his body.

“Let’s go, Hawk. It’s not worth a fight.”

Ignoring her, Hawk kept his burning gaze turned toward the proprietor. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he said softly, his voice a threat. “Either way, the lady will have a room and hot water for a bath.”

Seeing Hawk’s intentions clearly stamped on his stoic countenance, the man stepped back into the inn. “I’ll give her a room long ‘nough fer her to take her bath, but you and she’ll be outta here afore nightfall.”

“That’ll do.” Hawk escorted Molly into the building and followed the man to a room at the back. The interior of the building was as shabby as the exterior. Filth was everywhere, while spider webs hung from the rafters, and he suspected that the dark stains on the dirt floor were from more than spitting and spilled drinks. He began to doubt the wisdom of leaving M oily in such a place when he saw the bedroom.

The room was hardly large enough for the rope bed and a battered dresser, and he wrinkled his nose at the smell. With a disgusted snarl he wiped the bedclothes from the mattress and kicked them out the door.

While he waited for the innkeeper to return with the water, Hawk examined the only window in the room and found that the shutter was broken, the latch long gone. He nearly decided to keep Molly with him rather than to allow her to stay here unprotected. One look at her weary face and he knew he had no choice.

“Don’t got no tub,” the innkeeper stated when he returned with two buckets of water, one cold and one barely warm. He tripped over the smelly blankets on the floor and sneered at Molly. “Ain’t good enough for you?”

“Those aren’t good enough for a pig,” she replied softly. “But from the appearance of this room I’d say that’s what usually sleeps here.”

“Uppity bitch, ain’t ya? Take me ‘bout ten minutes to knock that outta you.”

“You touch her and you’re dead,” Hawk snarled as his fingers closed around the man’s throat.

“Ain’t gonna touch no Injun leavings,” the man whimpered while his hands shook so badly water sloshed out of the buckets he still held.

“If you’re smart enough to remember that you might still be alive when we leave.”

“Are you threatenin’ me, Injun?”

“No threat,” Hawk stated quietly, abruptly releasing his hostage. “That’s a promise.”

The man set the buckets down on the floor and backed out of the room. Hawk slammed the door in his face, his temper boiling just beneath the surface.

When Hawk turned he found Molly in his arms. She rested reassuringly against his chest and smiled when the babe kicked firmly, sending his own message of support.

“Will you bring in my bags before you leave?” Molly asked quietly. “I’d like to change into something clean.”

Hawk placed a soft kiss on the top of her head and hugged her tightly. He left the room and quickly returned with Molly’s bags. While she searched out her sole remaining clean shirt and pants, Hawk shoved the dresser in front of the window.

“This won’t keep a determined man outside for long,” he told her. “But it should cause enough noise to waken you. I’m going to leave the gun here. If you have reason to use it, don’t waste time aiming, point it at the top of the dresser and fire.”

Worried about Hawk facing the unfriendly townspeople without the protection the long rifle offered, Molly protested. “Take it with you, I won’t need it. No one has a reason for wanting to bother me.”

“For the most part, I’ll be ignored if I’m on the street by myself.”

“I’ve caused you problems,” Molly interrupted quietly as guilt made her realize the real danger Hawk faced with her at his side.

“No,
ain jelee.
“He smiled softly and cupped her cheek in his hands. “The problems are caused by people who have no reason to think they are better than anyone else but act that way anyway.

“Now, the door is flimsy, but when I get out I want you to use this piece of rope to secure it.”

Hawk handed her the rope and showed her how to tie the door closed. “I’ll knock when I return, but it’ll probably take a couple of hours before we’re ready to leave. I want to get some supplies after I trade the horses for a boat or a canoe. You bathe and then try to rest. We’ll be gone long before dark.”

“Be careful, Hawk.” Molly wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him.

“I will,
nee wah,”
he gently caressed her stomach. “1 have to much to return to, I won’t take careless chances.”

He kissed her and walked out of the room. Waiting until she had tied the door as he had shown her, Hawk pushed against it, satisfied that anyone trying to enter through it could have to struggle to get it opened. He prayed that if it were necessary, Molly would use the gun first and regret it later.

Molly stripped off her shirt and pants and used the warm water to clean some of the grime from her skin. It was barely warm but after cold river water it felt heavenly. After donning her remaining clean shirt and pants, she used the water to wash her clothing, then found there was nowhere in the room that she wanted to lay the damp clothes. Wadding them up, she put them back into the empty bucket. She decided to wait until they were on the boat to spread them out to dry.

It took only a quick look at the bed to see the fleas jumping around and she shuddered at the thought of what else might be on the dirty ticking. Deciding that the hard dirt floor was preferable to the dubious comfort of the bed, Molly spread her bedding on the floor and lay down. Within minutes, even as worry for Hawk plagued her thoughts, she drifted into a light, troubled sleep.

“Molly, wake up,
am jel ee.”

At the sound of his voice from the other side of the door, Molly jumped up and hurried to the door. Her fingers were clumsy in her haste to untie the rope and it seemed to take forever before the knots were free.

Then she was in his arms, tears of relief flowing freely down her cheeks.

“What is this?” Hawk caught one of the crystalline drops.

“I know it’s silly, but I was so scared.” She sniffed, wiping away the tears. “I seem to cry all the time. I guess that goes with the condition.”

“Did someone bother you?” His voice promised immediate retribution for anyone foolish enough to trouble her.

“No! No, I wasn’t bothered. I was safe enough here.”

Hawk looked at the flimsy door and the doubtful protection of the dresser in front of the window and he was glad she didn’t know how easily someone could have entered the room.

“It’s time to leave, sweetheart. Let’s gather up your things and head for the river. The current is running strongly and we should be miles away from here before dark.”

Anxious to be on the way, Molly rushed to leave. In a matter of minutes the bedding was tied in a firm roll and her wet clothing gathered in a bundle. With Hawk’s hand firmly at her back, she walked from the inn, delighted to be leaving, as she took every footstep.

For the most part, they were ignored as they walked toward the river. A few fools risked taunting the Indian, never realizing that they owed their lives to the woman who walked confidently in front of the Shawnee warrior. Had it not been for his fear of causing her further anguish, Hawk would have slit the throat of each man without a moment of regret.

They stopped at the river where a young boy . whom Hawk had paid to guard the boat, waited patiently. He tossed the boy a coin and watched the child run off to spend his unexpected booty. He turned the canoe over, stashed their gear in the middle and pushed two-thirds of its length into the water.

Hawk had hoped to find a flatboat large Enough to allow Molly to stretch out and sleep, but the only thing available was a canoe. It was well crafted and watertight, but even though the canoe would be faster, it was far less comfortable than a large craft.

“A canoe!” Molly exclaimed with delight. “I used to watch them float up and down the river in Charleston and always wanted to ride in one.”

“Here’s your chance, sweetheart.” Hawk took her hand and helped her into the bow. He instructed her to sit on the plank seat and fold her knees under her. He pushed the craft the rest of the way into the river and jumped into the stern. Picking up a paddle, Hawk guided the boat into the current.

Molly felt as if they were flying, so fast did the little canoe move. The water line was only a few scant inches beneath the sides but only occasional drops splattered onto her.

“How do you say canoe in Shawnee?”

“O lah ka see,”
Hawk replied, feeling relief slip past on the current as they put the settlement behind them. “Paddle is
cho mah lee
and water is
nup ee.”

Having quickly discovered that the slightest movement caused the small boat to rock from side to side, Molly carefully turned so that she was looking at her husband.

He controlled the craft with the expertise of long practice. He knelt and his arms moved rhythmically, pausing between strokes then dipping the paddle into the water and strongly digging in to get as much distance as possible out of each stroke.

He had discarded his heavy coat before they had set off. Molly soon saw a film of perspiration cover his copper skin. His shoulder-length black hair hung freely and shone blue in the bright sun. A red band was tied around his forehead, and it served double duty by keeping hair out of his eyes and by catching sweat as it beaded down his face.

Never had he looked more the Shawnee warrior.

“How do you say I love you?” she asked softly, her eyes overflowing with emotion for him.

“Ahxk wai la tee wai.
”His voice was richly husky and his black eyes glowed with tenderness.

She could believe he meant the words for her.

The paddle dipped, lifted, then dipped again. The water sparkled and rippled, carrying them at long last toward a home filled with welcome and love for the weary travelers.

“Ahxk wai la tee wai,
“she repeated, her eyes never leaving his.
“Ahxk wai la tee wai,
Nathan Morning Hawk.”

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

 

Molly sat in the front of the canoe and tried her best to appear relaxed. The gentle flutter of the baby kept her company as if he were doing his best to bolster her courage.

She watched the leafless trees as the boat glided silently past mile after mile of riverbank. The light snow that had been falling when they’d wakened before dawn had stopped and now the sun shone feebly through the thick clouds that hung threateningly just out of reach.

Before the day was over they would reach their destination. And Molly wished they could travel past Shawnee Town and settle alone in the wilderness.

After four days on the river, three of them spent reassuring Molly that she would be accepted by his white family, Hawk decided to let time prove him right. He could see the false courage in her shaky smile and firmly squared shoulders, and he longed to take her into his arms and hold her. If he doubted for even a moment that she would be greeted with anything less than warmth he would never have wanted her to endure the meeting. But Linsey would make M oily welcome with a smile and her knew that Bear would greet her with one of his rib-shattering hugs.

A sigh of relief drifted past Hawk’s lips, as familiar landmarks came into view. Home. After years spent at the university and then drifting from place to place, he was home.

Hawk pulled the canoe up on shore and jumped out, landing in ankle-deep water. Reluctantly, Molly handed him the things piled neatly in the middle of the craft, then held her hand out for him to steady her as she climbed to her feet. Her knees were shaky from the hours spent in the folded position … and from fear.

“Hawk …” Molly hesitated, not knowing what she wanted to say.

“Come, we’re home.” Hawk wrapped his arm around her for a brief hug then shouldered the packs and, taking her hand in his, started up the trail.

Having no choice but to follow, Molly clutched his hand and watched the trail ahead of them. Far too soon, they came upon the house and she gasped with surprise.

The white two-story house seemed to be all fulllength windows and tall, graceful Grecian columns. From each end of the house, chimneys poured white smoke into the air. Three giant weeping willow trees, their spindly branches bare of leaves, seemed to stand guard at the front entrance. Molly knew that in the summer the trees would provide a cool haven from the heat of the sun.

As they approached, a man walked from around the side of the house. He stopped abruptly when he saw them. Even from a distance Molly could see the smile that split his face and she heard as he yelled to the occupants of the house.

People seemed to spill into the yard. As she and Hawk walked closer Molly saw that, except for a woman wrapped warmly in a hastily donned cape, these dark-haired men were of massive proportions.

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