Flight of Fancy: Cora's Daughters (7 page)

Unable to move, his world was spinning, all thought within his mind had come to one sound conclusion as clear as the sun, he, Broc Wolf, wanted
that
woman. Seeing her standing there, whipping the hell out of Gareth Kuiper – and rightly so, and seeing the way she’d traveled, taking possession of all that she needed. Watching how she, on her own made it to that plantation.

To see her take out it’s overseers one at a time until she got a hold of Gareth Kuiper, made him
desire
her.

Seeing that and getting to know her by staying back and watching every one of her deeds, told him loud and clear – he was watching his mate for life. The gold be damned! She was worth far more than any amount they could come up with. To see her bravely face him and possible death – and not for a moment, was she willing to give in to save herself. Like some other women might have, she had not been willing to bargain, beg or plead – offering nothing to him to save herself – not even her body. 

Not… Asiza.

She was not a demon.

Nor a witch.

No wickedness flowed through her veins.

A spirit? Oh yes indeed, the grandest type of spirit.

Within her was a driven spirit more precious than any gold he would collect. He would have her any day over the mere pittance they were offering for him to bring her in,
dead
. His entire adult manhood he had been roaming about, trying to find
himself
, trying to find his father – as if he were the missing piece that would make him whole.

He no longer believed this to be so.

As he stood watching her flee – he knew as he knew the air that he inhaled kept him alive, that she was the missing piece of his soul.

Finding his father – could wait.

Tracking and gaining the trust and acceptance of his soul-mate… could not. What he needed to continue on life’s journey – stood just out of his reach. The true purpose of why he’d become a bounty hunter became abundantly clear – he’d needed to be in place in time to be the one sent off in pursuit of the fancy – that he would now claim as his own. 

Determined to see that end, his next goal was to gain her heart, her trust and her vow to him.

In that, he was certain he would not fail. However, before he left Clover Grove plantation, there was something he had to do. Life was about seizing opportunities – he was the type of man that would let none pass him by. After that, he would be back on her trail.

Chapter Four

He was following her.

She just knew that he was – she could tell. She hadn’t known it at first, that he had followed her from the lake – but now – she sensed him. She didn’t get it. If he was after her, why hadn’t he done to her what he’d come to do?

He shot and killed Master Gareth. Seeing that, remembering that, still made her head spin. That ball had been meant for her, why did he use it on someone he was supposed to be on the side of?

Who was that white man?

Why was he that way? Killing his own?

The strangest part of all – knowing that he was after her, should have compelled her, to
kill
him. Instead, she was running from him, why? She could have doubled back, climbed a tree, sat in waiting, and immediately dispatched an arrow just for him. Because she knew that to be true, twice she’d attempted it. She’d watched him from on high, and both times she loaded her bow, drew the arrow back and yet… could not let it fly. She could not lay him down as she had others. Was she crazy? She wondered about herself.

Was he crazy? Was something wrong in his head?

He saw what she could do, would do – but he kept coming, “Lawd, he ain’t even got sense enuff t’hide from me. He jus’ come on out where he know I see’im, like he waitin’ on me to kill’im? He crazy Lawd? Is he? Lawd, I’on like crazy folks, 'specially no crazy white men, they scare me even more. Lawd, sen’ that crazy man on way from me… sen’im on now.” She fussed after giving up on killing him to out ride him. She tried not to think about him anymore, she would think about her horse. She’d been feeding her bay mare and calling her ‘Flower’ to get used to it.

That was so, when she heard it, she knew she would get something good.

It was working. Her horse had taken a strong liking to her because she talked to her, treated her good, rubbed her down and gave her treats she enjoyed while calling her Flower.

Since the big white man - she was now thinking she might have to let Flower go. Flower was making it easy for him to find her, trail her, keep up with her – horses left signs you couldn’t cover.

“Can’t let you go Flower. I get lonely if you ain’t wit’me, don’t wanna be lonely…’cept that big ol’crazy man can fin’me long as I keep you.” She spoke low and gentle to her mare, stroking the animal’s long strong neck as they traveled.

“Don’ even know where I’m goin’ now. Got nowhere t’go Flower – don’t know where m’mama at – don’t know where Suga at. I love my baby sister – you’da like Suga – she don’ complain, she jus’ do her bit an’ get on wit’ what need to get done.” She rode a while thinking, “Lawd, see ‘bout Suga – take care’o’ha – don’ let nobody do her bad, please don’t – it break my heart somebody hurt my lil’sista. Lawd, I want you to see ‘bout my otha sista’s too… don’ worry ‘bout me – wha’s gone be for me, gone be… I ain’ gone fight it Lawd – no sa’ I ain’ gone fight it.”

Asiza rode but she was feeling a bit weary, lost, alone, and lonely. Going back to Clover Grove and not finding her mother or Suga seemed to sap the energy right out of her body. She was feeling tired for no reason, maybe because she was so sad. She never knew that being sad, could make you feel so tired, that all you want to do is sleep. She didn’t even feel like eating. Once more, days went by and she found herself deep in a densely covered forest. The trees were thick, their canopy let in the smallest traces of rays from the sun. She was surrounded by trees that could be easily climbed. Asiza dismounted, removed the saddle from Flower and hid it under a cluster of bushes. Turning back to Flower, “Go on girl, be free. Don’ want nobody holding on to me, ain’t gone be holdin’ on to you… go girl… go on.” Flower looked back at her, snorted a bit and turned away and started grazing, but would not take off.

Asiza sighed, “I wanna sleep, just a bit. You go on now, be happy girl, be happy.” With her weapons strapped onto her back, Asiza searched out a good tree, climbed it – and hung her weapons from boughs strong enough to hold them.

Pulling full leaf cluster branches down and weaving them together in place, she found the right cradle and lay upon it, giving in to her need to doze off to sleep.

It was the smell of smoke that woke her. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep, but when stirred – she was alert. Grabbing hold of a strong bough, she leaned outward to look down toward the dark forest floor. To her surprise, there was a crackling fire going – next to it, the big man from the lake.

She quietly came down from her sleeping perch, to a limb below, squatting in place she watched him. Looking around the clearing he made, she saw her horse, Flower standing next to his.

His horse snorted, tossed her head.

He looked up and right at her.

“Ah, there you are. I knew you were up in one'uv'em. Hungry? You eat yet?”

Asiza knelt, one hand holding tight a branch, the other holding her dagger. Her eyes moved about the area, checking everywhere – and then finally back to him.

“Why you followin’ me?” She asked from her high place.

Broc shrugged, “Can’nah seem not to, can’nah help myself.”

Her brow crinkled, perplexed, “Is you crazy o’somethin’?”

“Not last I checked, still got good sense about me.”

“That depen’ on who you ax.” She replied.

He chuckled at her words - the sound of it made her search his face closer. “How come – you ain’ try and kill me yet?” She asked.

“How come, you ain’t try and kill me yet?” He asked back.

She sighed, still not sure why. Nor sure of what to make of him – so there she sat, staring at him, while he stood, staring up at her.

“Well?” He prompted.

“Ain’ wanna kill you, got no reason, not yet. But you afta’ me, ‘cause they sen’ you – what you waitin’ on?”

“My mind’s come to tell me, why they send me after you not for the right reasons. I'm not likin’ those men right now Asiza, not likin’ them at all.” She stared, perplexed, quiet.

“Come down Asiza.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“I’m not lookin’ to harm you.” He offered up softly.

“Don’ care – I’on like ya’. White men dane’gous - don’ wanna be ‘round you. If you ain’t plannin’ to catch me, kill me – you needs t’go – leave me alone – stop followin’ me.”

Broc stood wondering what to do now, he looked down at his fire going, at the rabbits laying and waiting for him to gut, skin and cook. Sighing, he looked back up at her.

“I ain't the kind of white man you think Asiza. No I’m not. Dangerous, yeah, I can be – but, not to you. Me and you, we alike.”

“Ain't nuttin' alike. Gone way from me I said.”

Once more, Broc stood staring up, hands on his hips, thinking, trying to figure his next move. He then nodded down by the fire, gesturing with his head.

“Got three plump rabbits here, I’ll eat two, one’s for you.”

“I hunt my own.” She mumbled, petulantly.

Broc's eyes began to travel over her, on her legs, hips, he could almost see parts of her not meant to be seen, but the dark shadows hid her private places. “Woman shouldn’t be about - the way you are – you close to being as bare as a newborn babe. It’ll be cold soon, you gone run about like that then?”

“Why’on’t you go away s’I can come down?” She said, ignoring the rest.

“You can come down now.”

“Don’ trus' no man, don’t
like
no man! Gone away now, leave me alone.”

“You gone have to trust one, sooner or later – might as well be me.”

“Got no reason t’trus' you – I’on know you. What I do know, I’on like… now go away white man, gone!”

“I’m nothing like the others, I swear I’m not.”

“Don’ care, don’ like ya’. You all the same – you all evil – you all nasty – you all mean – you all care ‘bout nothin’, jus’ yo’self, yo’gold and usin’ that pokin’twig on us. You ain’ usin’ it on me, so you jus’ gone leave me alone an’ quit followin’ me!”

“Pokin’twig!” He repeated, of all she said, that was what stuck in his head, “Pokin’twig?” He parroted in disbelief – trying not to laugh.

“You know what I’m meanin’.” She grumbled through tight lips, “Yo’didly-doo.”

He shook his head, turning from her and exploded into laughter, guffawing loud and deep, that undid him.

“Well, I see now. I got my work cut out for me with you m’darlin’ Asiza…” He knelt – grabbed a rabbit to make quick work of dressing it for the pit, “…just so you know, I ain’t giving up – nope, no I ain’t.”

He went on, chuckling at her choice of words some more - not bothering to look at her because he knew that she heard every word that he said. “You want these rabbit skins? You gonna need’em.” He asked, going from one rabbit, to the next.

“Tol’you I hunt my own.” Her sweet voice was close, she was down from the tree. He made no sudden moves towards her, he figured he’d had a hard enough time getting her to trust him. There was no sense in doing anything stupid to make it even tougher.

He noticed her horse started walking away passing him by, which meant, she was heading off. He glanced up then, “Where you goin’ now?”

“’Way from you!”

He stood, “Give me a chance to cook an’ eat first before we head out.” he called across the growing distance between them.

She stopped and turned trying to look ornery and mean, “I mean what I say, don’ want you comin’ after me!”

“Every step you take I plan on bein’ right behind.” He returned.

She looked around on the ground, spotted a nice size rock, picking it up, she reared back and tossed it hard and true, hitting him right upside the head with it.

“OW! You hit me!” he couldn’t believe it – his hand went to the throbbing area where the stone struck.

Yes, he saw her looking for the rock. Yes, he saw her aim and throw it. But he hadn’t imagined she’d be able to aim so accurately and actually hit him, on target!

“You crazy fool – what you thank gone happen somebody chuck a rock at you? You jus’ stand there an’ watch it come? I know you crazy. You keep away from me, hear me?”

She turned back and started running off through the woods and unfortunately, Flower was right behind her, not willing to be left.

Broc turned back, still rubbing the hot spot at the corner of his forehead, sure enough, a lump was growing there.

“Hit me with a rock, right good she did – I’ah be damn!” He sat down, finished up his rabbits, putting them on the spit to cook. He glanced toward his saddle, there were ten of them rolled up inside his bed roll, and pretty soon, there would be enough for her to sew a better skirt for herself, something to cover her legs.