New Frontier of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 2) (14 page)

“We are indebted to you, Sir,” Stephen said. “I’m looking for quality pasture land suitable for cattle.”

“Stephen was the best breeder of cattle in the northern colonies,” Bear bragged, “he just did na have enough good pasture and the harsh winters there made it hard to keep livestock alive, especially their wee calves. Wait till ye see the herd he’ll raise up here with all that fine blue Kentucky grass. In no time, he’ll likely be feeding beef to half the state.”

Sam thought Bear was right. The new state’s exploding population would need food—beef Stephen wanted to raise. Stephen planned to buy up all the cattle he could find, save every heifer born and sell off the bull calves. If he could start with ten cows, he’d have fifteen or so after the first year; more than twenty in another year; and at least thirty five by the next. With the thick grass growing here, it wouldn’t take long for Stephen to build a thriving herd.

“I’ll make application for a bounty grant tomorrow,” Sam said.

“The Captain’s a hero of the revolution,” Bear told him, “that’s
why they made him a Captain. He’s also a mapmaker and guide.”

“I’m no hero,” he said, turning scolding eyes on Bear.

“What about you, Sir?” Mr. Wolf asked Bear.

“Well, I’m more inclined toward huntin’ and trappin’ than farmin’, so I’ll be lookin’ for land suitable for huntin’,” Bear said. “John, who you met when we arrived, is guardin’ our camp and the women just now. John and William both plan to live here in town. John’s an accomplished architect and builder and William was our town Sheriff back home and is nearly a lawyer too. Been studyin’ the law for some time.”

Sam eyed Bear. He never realized how proud Bear was of his adopted family. They were all proud of him as well. He was literally and figuratively a giant among men—the kind of friend one finds only once in a lifetime. Bear hadn’t changed much over the course of their journey, still the steadfast friend he always was. He wondered if Bear realized, after all they’d been through, what he had learned. That they were truly brothers. That they were family. He resolved not to let Catherine come between them again.

“This town could use an architect with all the buildings going up. Moreover, we certainly need knowledgeable men of the law; all we have now is a young constable, who lacks experience. Not sure how much it pays though. Since Colonel Boone left, things have come apart at the seams a little.”

That worried Sam. Frontier towns without the benefit of strong men of the law or the military were breeding grounds for mayhem. Without the influence a man like Colonel Boone, the town could quickly deteriorate into lawless anarchy.

“Looks like between the lot of you, you’ll be helping Kentucky to grow. Our new state needs more men such as yourselves. So
many of our colonists lack education and resources. I’ll help in any way that I can,” Mr. Wolf offered graciously. “First let me describe how new settlers acquire land.”

He folded his hands neatly in front of him on the slab table and cleared his throat. “The first thing you must do is secure a receipt from the State Treasurer in Frankfort, which in turn you will take to the Land Office within the county where the land you desire is located. The county will issue a warrant. The warrant will authorize you to locate and survey a certain acreage. By the way, these county warrants may be traded, sold, reassigned, in whole or in part, anytime during the process. After the warrant is completed, you must return it to the Land Office for entry in the county surveyor’s book. The Land Commissioner will register the warrant and record your intention to file for a patent. These entries are not binding and may be altered or withdrawn. Next, an actual field survey must be completed describing the metes and bounds. If there are no problems, and there often are, a Governor’s Grant is issued, usually within six months. This finalizes the patent process and conveys title.”

“Six months!” Bear and Stephen said in unison.

“In total, more like a year,” Sam said, disgusted. “How can we get homes built before winter?”

“I don’t make the rules gentlemen; I’m just here to sell land. You’ll have to argue with the Kentucky General Assembly and the Land Office about the merits of the system, although I admit, it does pose difficulties for those who need land quickly.”

While Wolf spoke, Sam wandered over to the crude fireplace, impatient with Kentucky’s bureaucracy. A shelf over the stone fireplace held several books. He noted among them the Bible, an almanac, The Pilgrim’s Progress, and Shakespeare. The
playwright’s book seemed out of place in this wilderness town. Shakespeare was his mother’s favorite writer. On winter evenings when the snows were deep, she would read passages aloud to her sons, in her nearly musical voice. Sometimes she was so animated it was more like watching the plays rather than just listening to them. He grinned at the pleasant memory and picked up the volume. As he flipped through the pages, he wondered what verses Shakespeare would have written about Kentucky, this ‘Land of Tomorrow.’ Undoubtedly, this remarkable land would have inspired the poet. It almost seemed as if it had. Here, men clashed with both nature and natives and definitely suffered ‘the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.’ He feared that the ‘Dark and Bloody Ground,’ as some called Kentucky, would require their taking ‘arms against a sea of troubles.’ Had those troubles already begun? Would they be able to, as Shakespeare wrote, ‘by opposing end them’?

“Do you enjoy Shakespeare, Captain Wyllie? Wolf asked.

“It’s been an exceedingly long time since I have,” Sam answered.

“Then you must borrow my book sometime,” Wolf suggested.

“What do most folks do then?” Bear asked. “Sounds like yer land system will keep lawyers busy for many moons but it will na put land in the hands of folks that need it for some time.”

“You may buy land that someone else received as a patent. These are simply a county responsibility and are known as a ‘deed.’ These are much easier to come by,” Wolf explained.

“But that means buying the land, not receiving a grant,” Stephen said.

“Yes, that’s right. Land sells for between a dollar and two
dollars and acre this way—the better the pasture land the more it costs.”

“Two dollars, that’s outrageous,” Stephen bellowed.

Sam stepped to the window. As the others talked, he found himself thinking about Catherine. He wondered again, what it would feel like to hold her. Sometime around midnight, when he was finally able to fall sleep, he dreamt of her. Every time she reached for him in the dream, he stepped away before she touched him. And every time he did, he grew more annoyed and disgusted with himself.

Scowling, he tried to push thoughts of her from his mind. He turned around and did his best to concentrate on the conversation going on behind him. But after just a minute or two, he decided he would leave the tedious details of the land process to Stephen. Stephen had more patience than he did. He turned back to the window.

He noted the sky clouding up even more than when they arrived. Might have a thunderstorm tonight. Then he noticed them.

The same scruffy bunch of hunters they’d encountered before were waiting across the street. Their vulgar leader seemed to be eyeing Sam’s horse, tied just outside Wolf’s office.

His eyes narrowed as he studied the big man. Wariness crossed his mind before he turned back toward the others.

“Time to go,” he said.

CHAPTER 13

“W
ait, just a moment longer Sam. Mr. Wolf, what do you recommend we do?” Stephen asked.

“Apply for your patents as soon as you can arrange. In the meantime, pool your money and buy something you can build on now. You can always sell it later, probably for a nice profit.”

Sam continued to study the men across the street. The large–caliber rifles they carried and their manner of dress confirmed that the fresh skins he’d seen were their kills and that they were indeed buffalo hunters. He had little respect for hunters who massacred defenseless animals by the hundreds just for the profit their hides would bring. It was pure slaughter and a waste of the precious meat.

“Do you know of any good sites available?” Stephen asked.

“Indeed I do, Sir. Fifty acres near here just became available, half wooded and half cleared with a young orchard. The cleared land is in good fence. The title is indisputable. The previous owner, John Marshall, relocated to Louisiana. I just bought it from him. It’s got a nice dwelling on it—not much more than one large
room and a hearth, but it’s snug and will keep your women and children warm and dry while you men add on to it or get a bigger house built.”

“We appreciate your time, Sir, and we’ll let you know if we want to look at that land,” Stephen said. He stood and shook Mr. Wolf’s hand. The rest of the men followed Stephen’s lead and bid Mr. Wolf good day.

Sam stepped out of Wolf’s office first. As he untied his horse, out of the corner of his eye, he looked across the street. The wide-shouldered leader of the hunters stared directly at him with cold, hard eyes.

Trouble, he decided immediately.

They mounted and turned their horses toward camp.

“Hey, new settlers,” the man yelled, striding directly toward him, carrying a heavy rifle in the crook of his arm. His five other men, still looking disheveled and menacing, followed behind the man. “I want to buy that horse mister. I’m partial to buckskins, always was.” The man grabbed the gelding by his bridle and turned the horse’s head toward him, eyeing Alex with a sinister envy. “Buckskins are as tough as wet leather.”

Alex shied away from the stranger. Sam felt his horse’s muscles bristle beneath him. The gelding didn’t like this man any more than he did.

“Keep your grubby paws off my horse,” he warned through gritted teeth. “My horse is not for sale.”

The man stepped back and blatantly appraised Sam, then said to his grungy companions, “I bet he’s a good horseman. Can’t wait to have him between my legs.”

It was a threat couched in an insult. A disgusting insult.

Sam said nothing but he glared with disgust upon a man already his enemy.

The fellow’s five companions, all wearing whiskey induced grins, came closer.

Their leader strolled around Sam’s horse. “Yup, this horse will suit me just fine,” the hunter said, his mouth curled in a mirthless smile. He spat a brown stream of tobacco, some of it dripping into his oily beard. “Get this man a couple of cases of whiskey. I’m about to trade for a horse,” he instructed one of his men.

“Forget the damn whiskey,” Sam snarled. The only thing he would trade with this snake would be punches.

“If you men are looking for a fight, we’ll oblige you, but I’d advise you to move on. My brother here is slow to anger but once riled, watch out. He won’t be stopped,” Stephen warned, his voice smooth as silk, but his eyes full of threat.

The man gave Stephen a mocking smirk and said, “He doesn’t worry me none. I have more muscles in my cock than he has in both arms.” He wrapped a hand on his manhood and thrust out his hips.

Sam’s lip curled at the revolting gesture.

“I want this horse and I’ll have him by God,” the man continued to insist.

“I doubt God has anything to do with the deals you make,” Sam growled. “More likely, they are made with the Devil. I’ve told you once the horse is not for sale and I am not accustomed to having to repeat myself. Move on,
now
.”

He motioned for Stephen and Bear to leave too as he turned his back on the man. He tapped Alex’s sides with his heels and started down the road.

“Hey coward, running off
again
? Afraid of a little brawl with real Kentucky men? Come on, let’s settle this. I’ll fight you for the horse,” the man taunted.

Sam leaned forward and looked over at Stephen and Bear. Bear’s nostrils flared with fury and Stephen’s face was a mask of rage. They exchanged a long deep look with him, their eyes as angry and dark as thunderclouds.

“You three cockteasers are running off like virgin hens,” the man said mockingly.

“
Boc, boc, booccc
,” the other hunters cackled and then broke out into raucous laughter.

The man’s words seemed worn, used too often, by the shallow petty man and the others with him. But his contemptuous tone, the insolence in his voice, singed the tinder of Sam’s anger. Sam struggled to quench the spark threatening to erupt, clenching his teeth together so hard they threatened to crack.

“Is that pretty young blonde a virgin too?” the leader drawled.

That was it. Sam’s control blew apart like a volcano. His blood began to boil. His throat grew hot and inflamed. Mumbled curses spewed from his hardened mouth. He shoved his boots against the stirrups and tugged back on the reins bringing Alex to an abrupt halt. Seething, he whirled the horse around, back toward the laughing men. He pushed the big gelding right up to the man.

Alex seemed perfectly willing to trample the hunter, who took a big step back to avoid being stepped on.

His eyes blazing, Sam glared down at the man. “Apologize. Now!”

The hunter just stood there, tall and insolent, but silent.

“Good Lord, you
are
a stupid fellow,” Stephen told the man, as he pulled up next to Sam.

Stephen was wrong. There was nothing stupid about this man. He was cunning and calculating. Sam could see it in the man’s dark eyes. He was after something more than this horse and he was deliberately provoking this fight. Carefully controlling his hardened voice, he said, “I don’t know your name Sir, but apparently you need to learn mine. My name is Captain Sam Wyllie, and these gentlemen are Stephen Wyllie and Bear McKee. And now that you know who we are, we will teach you not to insult our family again.”

With a face that would make a grizzly look friendly, the leader stood in the middle of the six men.

Sam took each man’s measure with battle experienced eyes.

Then he, Stephen, and Bear regarded each other, each silently recognizing what the others had to do.

They dismounted slowly and, in unison, advanced toward the six men.

Always protective of Stephen, Bear took position in front of the biggest hunter, who appeared to be the most menacing. “Don’t want to take away from your fun,” Bear told Stephen, “but let me take this wee one here in front.”