My Savage Heart (The MacQuaid Brothers) (14 page)

“What happened?” Caroline remembered the meeting Raff had with the governor while she waited in the anteroom. By the looks of Mary as she raised her shoulders, Caroline imagined the brothers got as much satisfaction.

“Governor Lyttelton said he would look into it. He went so far as to appoint a commissioner, but nothing changed. Raff was furious.”

“What of Logan?”

“Not long after that, Logan left me.”

“It wasn’t you he left. You said yourself he’s fighting the French.”

“A woman knows,” was all she would say.

Caroline did her best to sway Mary’s contention that her husband didn’t love her. Before she shut the door, leaving her friend to rest, Mary admitted that worry over her baby and fatigue were probably the main reasons for her melancholy. Still Caroline wished Logan MacQuaid would come riding down the path to reassure his young wife.

As usual when she approached the parlor, Caroline’s step grew lighter. But this time it did no good. She cringed when she heard Robert’s voice.

“Mrs. MacQuaid, I would see you a moment.”

With reluctance she couldn’t hide, Caroline paused in the open doorway. “I was on my way to the garden.” The heavy curtains were drawn, but enough light filtered into the room for her to see his annoyance as he motioned her inside.

He’d become more fleshy since her arrival, and his skin had taken on a pasty hue. Yet his expression and tone remained the same, only modulated by the amount of rum he imbibed. This afternoon he appeared relatively sober, though a glass of amber liquid sat upon the table by his arm.

His stare was disconcerting as Caroline stood before him. But she’d decided not to be intimidated by him, and she did her best to school her features into a pleasant mask. “Mary is resting. I pray this problem won’t harm the baby.”

“Women have babies all the time. The savages simply drop the whelp and forget it. You coddle the girl too much.”

“Is that what Raff’s mother did, drop him and forget it?” Caroline couldn’t imagine what possessed her to say such a thing. She’d never before mentioned his son’s name, and certainly never to imply his mother was Cherokee. It hadn’t taken her long to realize the contempt with which her husband viewed the Indians.

If she’d set out to raise his ire, which she tried very hard not to do, she couldn’t have said anything more inflammatory. It didn’t take the contortion of his face in rage to tell her that. But she resented his attitude, all the more because the Cherokee women were the first to suggest Mary needed to rest more. And she’d seen them with their own children. They were loving, attentive mothers.

Still, as she waited for the vile words to spew forth, Caroline knew she shouldn’t have said it. She certainly owed neither Wolf nor his mother her allegiance.

“Damn you, girl!” Robert lunged to his feet so quickly he lost his balance and fell back heavily into the chair. “I’ve put up with your insolence too long. ’Tis time you learn your place.”

Keeping quiet was her best defense, Caroline was smart enough to know that. But today it seemed a wayward imp had control of her tongue. “I have attempted to make a place for myself here.” Caroline was proud of the work she did, the friends she’d made.

His laugh was evil. “Your
place
is in my bed, girl.”

To this, Caroline managed to say nothing. It was a common refrain... threat... she considered it. He seemed to enjoy watching her pale as he described in detail the vile things he would do to her when his leg healed.

“And if you think to escape me much longer... He laughed again, wiping the spittle from his lips with the back of his hand. “My leg is getting better each day. Come, feel for yourself. The knot where the bones mend is smaller.” He waved her forward.

Caroline knew it was cowardly, but she couldn’t make herself move forward. Instead she made some quickly stated excuse about being needed in the garden and retreated through the door. But she wasn’t fast enough to miss his raucous laughter, or his chortled, “Soon, girl. Soon.”

Though she’d stopped outside the door to calm her agitated breathing, both Sadayi and Walini looked up, their expressions concerned, as she came down the path to the kitchen garden. “Mary is worse?” Sadayi asked after dropping a squash into the bag tied to her waist.

“No, no, she seems better actually.” Caroline tied the ribbons of her bonnet as she walked toward them through the rows of corn. She retrieved her own bag from the hook near the kitchen door and began filling it, working side by side with the two women. They spoke of the weather... warm for this late in the season of corn. And the Cherokee women wondered aloud if the men would go to the winter hunt... or if war would keep them close to the villages.

Caroline listened to their talk and wished she could say something to ease their minds... to ease her own mind. When she could stand it no more, she changed the subject.

“Sadayi,” Caroline asked as they finished picking a row. “Did you know Raff’s mother.”

“Wa`ya’s mother, Alkini, came from another town, but I knew of her.”

“She was very beautiful,” Walini said.

“Phew.” Sadayi made a face toward Walini. “You never saw her. You are too young.”

“I know what I’ve heard,” Walini countered. Sadayi lifted her shoulders. “What Walini says is true. She was beautiful.”

“Did she live at Seven Pines long?”

“I do not know. It is said she came here to marry the snake who cheats.”

“Oh,” Had Robert promised to marry her, then turned her away? “What happened then?”

“Nothing happened. She lived. She grew old.”

“But Robert... Mr. MacQuaid never married her?”

“Not in the way of the white man. But the Cherokee way is simpler.” Sadayi said it as if she thought their way was also far superior. “We exchange gifts, and that is it. If either decides it’s not to be, they leave.”

“Did Alkini decide to leave?” Caroline couldn’t imagine anyone staying with the man willingly.

Sadayi shook her head. “She was sent away. Then many years later, he came and took the boy.”

She made a tsking sound with her mouth. “Wa`ya should have stayed with her. Learned from his uncles. It is our way.”

Later as she sat by the creek that ran behind the house, Caroline thought of what the women had said. It had become her habit to sit here for a few moments before going into the house. She enjoyed the quiet time to herself as the day gave way to twilight.

The magnitude of the surrounding forest fortified her, helping her face the evening. A time she was forced to spend with her husband. Today, dreading the certain confrontation, she lingered awhile longer, sitting on a moss-covered rock and watching as the crystal water chuckled over the polished stones.

No one ever bothered her when she came here, which was one reason the sound of her name, spoken softly, startled her so. The other reason was that even before she turned, she knew who was behind her. It was almost as if her mind had conjured him up.

Caroline slowly looked over her shoulder, assuring herself she was prepared for the sight of him. Realizing immediately she wasn’t. “What are you doing here?” Her tone was as haughty as months of built-up hurt and anger could make it.

“I’ve come to take you away,” was all Wolf said.

“A
re you mad!” Caroline took an involuntary step backward. In her haste her foot tangled with an exposed root. Raff’s hand shot out, catching her by the upper arm before she could fall. Caroline should have been grateful for the assistance, but she wasn’t. As soon as she regained her balance, she pulled away from his touch.

There was no denying, despite all that had happened, he affected her as strongly as before.

Caroline took a deep breath. “I think you should leave.”

“Not without you.”

Her gasp was audible. His words sounded so familiar. Caroline heard them in her dreams nightly. It was always the same. He came for her, begging her forgiveness. Insisting she go with him. Swearing undying love...

But this was not a dream. Even though the nebulous light of dusk gave the whole a surreal quality, Caroline knew the flesh and blood man standing before her was no fantasy. And his words were not something she wished to hear.

Not now. It was too late.

Yet after her first request that he leave, she seemed incapable of doing more than staring at him. Regardless how strong and compelling her memories of him were, they paled compared to reality. He was taller, broader of shoulder and more darkly handsome. And though his garb was more civilized than when last she saw him—hair tied in queue, linen hunting shirt and leggings—the real Wolf exuded more savage strength than her dreams allowed. Even the most erotic ones.

The sound of his voice, low and deep, served to break the sensual spell he’d cast over her. “Caroline—”

“’Tis Mrs. MacQuaid.” she didn’t imagine the tightening of his jaw. “I’m Mrs. Robert MacQuaid now.”

Caroline thought she saw regret and something else in his eyes before he lowered his gaze. For a moment his long dark lashes shadowed his skin. But when he looked at her again his expression was unreadable.

“Listen to me, Caroline—”

“No!” Caroline twisted away when he tried to touch her again. “I won’t!” She felt tears building behind her eyes, hot, bitter tears, and she did her best to keep them at bay. “I’ve listened to you all I intend to. Just go away and leave me in peace.” She turned back then, her mask of angry indignation crumbling. “Haven’t you done enough?”

He knew it would not be easy, seeing her again. A part of him, the coward that tempts all men, urged him to go directly to his father with the news. But she deserved more than that... much more. Wolf took a step toward her and another when she didn’t move away. “This place is not safe.”

Her chin notched higher, and he saw anger flare like lightning in the depths of her blue eyes. “You brought me here.”

“At your insistence. Or am I wrong that you traveled from England to come here?” The heat of his words faded. “To make this marriage.”

She said nothing, only stared at him hard before turning away. Then, her voice strong she said, “Go away.”

“I cannot.” He resisted the urge to cup her soft shoulders, to feel again the warmth of her nape beneath his lips. “I am sorry for—”

“Don’t.” Her skirts billowed out as she whirled around to face him. “Don’t apologize for what you did. I can’t bear that.”

“I regret only the hurt I caused you.”

“That is good.” Caroline pushed by him to start back toward the house. “I hope your regrets last you a lifetime.”

He did touch her then, grabbing her arm and swinging her back to him. His face was inches from hers. “I don’t recall forcing you to do anything.” His words were cruel, forged by anger... and guilt. Guilt that had plagued him since he left her to the mercies of his father. A man with no mercy.

“You’re right, of course.” Caroline didn’t want to be so close to him she could smell his scent. To have that sense awaken so many memories.

“Nay.” Wolf’s forehead dropped till it touched the crown of her head. “It was not your doing, but mine.”

Caroline took a shattered breath. “Leave me... please.”

Instead of doing as she asked, he drew her closer. She could feel the imprint of his strong body and wanted to collapse against him. When he lifted her chin so he could look at her, she wanted his lips to come crushing down on hers. Hard and hungry. She wanted to feel the sweet oblivion of his kiss, his touch. She wanted to forget that he left her. That she was wed to another. That the other was his father.

But she couldn’t. Her hands came up between their bodies. Fingers fisted, she pushed at him. “Let go of me.”

“You will listen first.” Wolf held her tightly. The fog clouding his reasoning lifted. “You are in danger.”

“From you perhaps.” Curls escaped their pins as she struggled. But fighting him was useless, and when he gripped her shoulders and gave her a shake, she stopped.

“Hear me. There is talk among the Cherokee of righting past wrongs.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Despite her anger, and the sexual pull that to her shame blunted it, Caroline sensed he was sincere and very troubled by what he said.

“Revenge, Caroline. Against those who have wronged them. There is much talk of it among some of the warriors. They feel if the British want them to fight then they shall. But they will choose the enemy.”

“You’re talking in riddles.” Caroline twisted her head away, forcing herself to remember how she felt when she last saw him... riding away without a backward glance.

“This is not a word game... or a game of any kind. Most of the Headmen preach patience and compromise, but the young warriors are out for blood.”

Caroline stood, a prisoner of his gaze while her mind registered what he said. She broke his hold with a slight shiver. “You are wrong. You warned me of this before and things couldn’t be more peaceful. Why Sadayi and Walini come here every day. We are friends.”

“There are few the Cherokee dislike more than him.” Wolf motioned in the direction of the house.

“Robert?” She had heard as much from the women, but that did not mean she thought the Cherokee would do anything about it. Caroline took a deep breath. “I realize my... husband is not always easy to...” She wanted to say “live with” but didn’t want to bring this discussion to a personal level. “He may have done things to the Cherokee that he shouldn’t have, but—”

“You think that is it? That I came to lay my people’s grievances at your feet?”

“I don’t know why you came.” Caroline bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering.

“I told you why, Caroline.” His strong hands gripped her elbows above the ruffle of her shift.

“Don’t call me that.” Her attempts to pull away were futile.

“If the Headmen lose control over the warriors, they will strike out. I have seen it happen before.” His eyes caught hers again. “And when they do, it will be to destroy those they feel have hurt them. I want you out of here, safe, when that happens.” The force of this last admission surprised Wolf. He told himself he came to Seven Pines as he would any place, to warn the inhabitants. He certainly felt no special duty toward his father, though he cared about his brother’s wife.