My Savage Heart (The MacQuaid Brothers) (26 page)

With that, she picked up her skirts and ran for the back door. The trees stood out in bold relief against the paler sky and the ground was covered with a light frost that made her slippered feet slide. But she kept running toward the river.

A sound caught her attention to the right, and she ran toward it thinking it was Wolf returning from his swim. “It’s Mary,” she called. “She has the fever. I need—”

The word water was drowned out by her gasp as she ran into the arms of a dark-skinned savage.

A
n involuntary scream tore from her body as naked arms clasped around her. Instinctively, Caroline knew it was hopeless to fight. Her assailant towered over her; and though his body didn’t feel as hard as Wolf s, he was easily stronger than she.

But Caroline wasn’t the same woman who might have swooned at such an onslaught months ago. She struggled with all her might, scratching and slapping, biting, till she’d worked her right hand free of his grasp. Wriggling, she managed to turn herself slightly. Then she clawed at her skirts, her heart pounding in her ears.

When her fingers found the slit in her overskirt a bubble of excitement forced aside some of her panic. The pistol butt felt smooth as her hand clasped around it. With all her strength she tried to angle the weapon toward the man who continued to hold her up against him. She couldn’t manage to pull the gun from her pocket, but that didn’t matter. She would blow a hole through her skirts to kill her attacker. If she could only point the pistol toward him.

“What the hell...?”

Caroline was too caught up in her struggle to notice anything until she was unceremoniously dropped to the hard ground. Pain shot through her shoulder, and she could feel the air whoosh from her body, but her arm was free. Free to aim the pistol.

A hand clasped around hers, skirts and all, an instant before she pulled the trigger.

Sobbing, she tried to free her hand, but it was useless. The grip on her was unyielding.

“Caroline!”

Her head jerked up. She saw Wolf leaning over her, his black hair wet and slicked back from his face, and she cried out with relief... then fear. Couldn’t he see the danger?

But he seemed unconcerned as he knelt beside her. His wet arm snaked around her shoulder though he didn’t loosen his grip on her hand. “It’s all right, Caroline,” he said.

“But—” Her explanation to him that there was an Indian, bent on harming them was interrupted by a string of low, guttural words that she didn’t understand. She whipped her head around to see the Indian who attacked her looming above Wolf and her. Fear shot through her again, but to her dismay, Wolf laughed. She could feel the vibrations through her body as he pulled her to her feet.

“Are you hurt?” he asked as he carefully extracted the pistol from her grasp, then pulling it from its hiding place in the folds of her skirt. She thought he might aim it at the tall imposing Indian, but he merely let it hang by his side while his finger combed pine needles from her tangled hair.

More guttural words came from the stranger, and this time he held his hand out toward Wolf who examined it with a shake of his head.

“What is he saying?” Caroline demanded. Perhaps Wolf acted as if there was nothing to fear, but he hadn’t been accosted by this fearsome-looking Indian. “And why are you just standing there?”

“He says you are a wildcat.” Wolf’s eyes held hers for a moment.

“Me?” Caroline’s chin jutted up with indignation. “Ask him why he attacked me!”

More words from the Indian.

“He seems to feel it was you who attacked him.” Wolf leaned forward giving the Indian’s finger a cursory examination, making a tsking sound with his mouth as he did. “Gulegi wonders why the white woman found it necessary to bite him.”

The amusement in Wolf’s dark eyes annoyed her. If this Indian was a friend, she had no way of knowing it. Besides he didn’t exactly step from the path and introduce himself. And she didn’t appreciate Wolf making light of her fear. Her heart still pounded like the drums she’d heard in the Indian town. Caroline stepped from Wolf’s loose embrace, flinging curls back from her face as she did. “He attacked me,” she stated calmly, staring straight at her assailant. “I was running to find you—” Oh my God? How could she have forgotten?

Caroline clutched Wolf’s arm. “Mary has a fever. She’s burning up. I need water,” she yelled as she turned on her heel. Not waiting for his reply Caroline picked up her skirts and hurried back toward the house.

Wolf said a few words to the man who was still examining his finger and followed. By the time he reached the bedroom, Caroline had scooped up the baby and held the crying infant to her shoulder. They approached the bed together.

Wolf didn’t need to touch his brother’s wife to know she was feverish. Her skin looked parchment-thin and dry.

Caroline shook her head slowly. “I need water,” she reminded. Caroline knew of no other way to bring her temperature down.

“Gulegi is bringing it.”

Moments later, true to his words, the burly Indian stomped into the room, carrying a pail of water. Caroline handed Colleen to Wolf and set about wiping Mary’s face with the cooling liquid. Mary moaned but still didn’t open her eyes.

Wolf paced the room from the hearth to the opposite wall, trying to quiet the child. “She’s hungry,” Caroline said as she looked up. “But I don’t think Mary can feed her.”

“Do you know what is wrong with her?”

Tears of frustration sprang to Caroline’s eyes, but she blinked them back. “I don’t know.”

Turning away from her Wolf spoke in a low tone to the Indian. Caroline watched as the strange Indian nodded, then left the room.

“What did you say to him?” A movement outside the window caught her eye, and she saw the Indian lope across the clearing. He passed the tree where Robert was killed and faded into the forest.

“I sent him to the village to fetch Sadayi.”

“He is a friend of yours, isn’t he?” When Wolf nodded, Caroline looked away. “I nearly shot him.”

“I am sorry he frightened you, but not every Cherokee is an enemy to you.” He patted the baby’s back with his large hand, and she whimpered in response.

Now that she thought about it, Caroline admitted to herself that she probably did run into the stranger. And though he’d held onto her, he hadn’t hurt her. Still, after what she’d been through, and the vigilance kept by Wolf, she had a right to be wary. “’Tis impossible for me to know the difference upon first glance,” she said before turning back to Mary.

“I realize this has been difficult for you.”

“More so for Mary, I would say.” Caroline didn’t turn when she spoke, but kept her hands busy blotting her friend’s face with the damp cloth. She could tell he was close to her. His scent surrounded her. Caroline tried not to allow that to affect her. But it did. Why could she not resist even the most subtle thing about him? Even when her concern for Mary was so great?

At least she wasn’t the only female who couldn’t resist him. Baby Colleen, soothed into momentarily forgetting her hunger by his gentle touch, slept soundly against his shoulder.

His naked shoulder.

He’d come running from his swim in the river, dressed only in his loincloth, his bronzed skin shimmering with water. Would she ever be able to look at him and not be affected by his powerful body? Caroline forced such thoughts from her mind, but she didn’t glance around toward him. “I shall hold Colleen if you wish to put something else on. You must be chilled,” she added, hoping he’d think that was the reason she wanted him dressed.

He made no comment, but she could hear him moving about the room, depositing the baby in her cradle, then returning to glance over her shoulder at Mary before leaving the room.

She didn’t hear him return. Convinced that Mary felt a bit cooler, Caroline arched her back to relieve her aching muscles. She stiffened when she felt his hand upon her shoulder.

“I will do that for a while.”

When she glanced around, he nodded toward the pail by Caroline’s feet. He had pulled on a linen hunting shirt and tied back his hair, though it was still wet enough to dampen a V on his shirt. “I suppose I could use a rest.”

“Only a change of tasks. I brought some watered-down gruel to feed Colleen.”

“Can she eat that?” When Raff only shrugged, Caroline moved to the cradle. The baby was crying again, a weak, low keening that tore at Caroline’s heart. She thought of her own child nestled safely inside her body, and she held Colleen closer.

The infant didn’t take to the gruel at first, puckering her little face and crying louder. But Caroline cuddled her, rocking back and forth in the chair by the window and patiently putting her gruel dipped finger to the child’s rosebud mouth.

Caroline looked toward Wolf and smiled the first time Colleen stopped crying to suck. His answering grin made her feel wonderful.

They spent the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon taking turns between feeding Colleen and sponge-bathing her mother. They were pleased when Colleen slept; and when Mary woke enough to utter a few words, Logan and her child were what she asked about. Caroline assured her both were safe, hoping she spoke the truth.

Wolf heard the small group approaching even before they hailed the house. He hurried from the room and opened the front door. Caroline, expecting only to see Sadayi and the Indian who frightened her earlier, was surprised when a half dozen Cherokee entered the room.

Sadayi came to her and reached down for Colleen, grinning her nearly toothless grin as she did. “Pretty baby, but too small,” she said then handed her to another woman that Caroline didn’t recognize. This woman motioned for Caroline to rise from the chair. When she did, the young Cherokee settled herself in Caroline’s place, untied her blouse and offered Colleen her breast. The hungry baby latched on immediately. All three women laughed at the loud sucking noise made by the tiny infant.

“Cahtahlata lost her baby,” Sadayi explained, “but she still has milk.”

“I’m sorry—about your child, I mean.”

The young woman nodded, apparently needing no interpreter to understand Caroline’s words of sympathy.

When Caroline turned her attention to Mary, she found her friend’s bed surrounded by three people she didn’t know. Wolf was no longer in the room. “The Sachem has come to help Mary,” Sadayi said. “She will be fine.”

“But what’s wrong with her?” Caroline glanced back over her shoulder as Sadayi led her from the room.

“Milk fever. Many get it. But she will be fine. You are the one who must rest.” Sadayi nudged her along toward the stairs.

Caroline caught a glimpse of Raff and another Cherokee in the parlor, but Sadayi was not in a mood to tarry. At the top of the stairs she made pushing movements with her broad hands until Caroline entered her room.

“How long has it been since you slept?” Sadayi asked as she pulled down the quilt.

“I’m not tired, really. ’Tis Mary that concerns me.”

“She’s being taken care of. And it will do neither you nor your baby any good to get no rest.”

Caroline turned, ignoring Sadayi’s clucked protest as she tried to unhook Caroline’s bodice. “How can you know for sure that I am with child?” She had mentioned the possibility of a baby once, the day after Robert beat her. But since then, she and Sadayi had not discussed it.

The Indian woman simply made a face as if to say she wasn’t stupid.

“I want to know,” Caroline persisted. She’d studied herself in the mirror before the Indian attack and was convinced no one could tell. That had been no more than a sennight ago. True, she had not paid much heed to her appearance since then, but surely nothing had changed that much. Now she glanced down quickly as the lacings of her stays loosened.

“I can see you are
taluli
, pregnant, here.” Sadayi touched her cheek. “And,” she added tilting her head to the side and examining Caroline with her sloe eyes. “You are not as skinny as you were.” She removed the stays, leaving her dressed in her shift and petticoats. “But do not concern yourself, I do not believe Wa`ya has noticed.”

“Why should I care about that?” Caroline forced her voice to remain calm.

“The baby will be his
tsunkinisi
, his younger brother. Wa`ya will take care of you.”

“Oh... yes. ’Tis true, I suppose.” Caroline allowed the older woman to settle her on the bed. Her baby would be considered Wolf’s half-brother. Unless you tell him the truth, a small voice reminded her.

“Sadayi.”

The Indian woman stopped her progress toward the door and glanced over her ample shoulder.

Caroline bit her lip. “Please don’t tell Raff... about the baby, I mean.”

The Cherokee woman only shrugged. “It is not my place to tell.”

As tired as she was, it still took a long time for Caroline to fall asleep. When she did, her dreams were as troubled as her mind. A child stared up at her with eyes as dark as night, questioning. She tried to tell him the truth, but he turned away from her and disappeared in the haze that swirled up around his chubby legs. In her nightmare Caroline chased after him, calling his name over and over, begging him to come back to her.