New Frontier of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 2) (18 page)

Sam took notice of one family of about twelve in number who arrived shortly after they did and also awaited the Commissioner. As the father walked up, he carried an ax and a rifle on his shoulders. The plump wife carried the rim of a spinning wheel in one hand and a baby in the other. Several little boys and girls, each with a bundle matching their size stood clustered together beside two poor horses, heavily loaded with the family’s necessities. A milk cow, with a bag of meal on her back, also waited with them. The family seemed not only patient, but cheerful, filled with the expectation of seeing happier days here in Kentucky. Sam hoped their desires would be more than fulfilled.

Finally, Commissioner Simmons arrived. Thick-necked, potbellied, and nearly out of breath, Simmons welcomed them warmly, apologizing for keeping them waiting. Wiping beads of sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief, he said excitedly,
“I’ve been listening to stories of your encounter with the buffalo hunters. The whole town is buzzing about it. You brave men are already local heroes.”

Surprised, Sam glanced at Stephen and Bear, who also appeared taken aback. But none of them mentioned the pending charges against them.

“You men did Boonesborough a favor yesterday. It would be an honor to help you,” he added. Addressing the large family, he said, “I’ll be with you good folks as soon as I finish with these gentlemen.” He unlocked his office door and motioned them inside.

The bright early morning sun lit up the maps nailed to every rough log wall in Simmons’ dusty office.

Sam began studying the maps, paying particular attention to the Filson Map of Kentucky, published only a few years before. As a mapmaker himself, he appreciated the fine work of John Filson, and the effort and personal sacrifices taken to create it. The popular map clearly showed the location of rivers and creeks as well as mountains and hills.

“Much of the land we have for settlement in Kentucky was negotiated in the Hopewell and Holston treaties. Unfortunately, many of the treaty boundary lines remain unclear and are often disputed by the native tribes and fighting has continued on and off for the last seven or eight years. Let me show you what may be your best choices,” Simmons said, pointing to Filson’s map.

Sam moved aside to give the others room to see the intricate map too.

“The most recently developed area, with the least threat of Indian trouble, is about 75 miles west and south of here. Unless
you go too far west where the Chickasaw lands begin and counties are not yet organized. Northeast is quite mountainous and the Shawnees still use it as hunting grounds. You’ll certainly want to stay away from them. The southeast is best for traders and trappers because of its access to the Cumberland Gap and the Wilderness Road,” he explained, “but the Cherokee still hunt the majority of the area and therefore the land is not available yet for patenting.”

“We saw some lush grassland there on our way here,” Stephen said. “I wondered why that land looked as if it had not yet been claimed.”

“In a word—Cherokees,” Simmons said.

“Indians killed a whole flatboat of families—even the poor wee bairns,” Bear said, “not long after we crossed the Cumberland River.”

“I heard about that unfortunate event,” Simmons said. “Before we go on, I need to explain something to you Captain. Earlier you said you would be making application for a Bounty Grant. The Bounty Grants for Revolutionary service are now only for men who served from Kentucky and Virginia. You will only be entitled to a regular land patent, the same as everyone else.”

Sam stared at the Commissioner for several moments, then crossed his arms. “Show me the statute, Sir,” he ordered.

Simmons turned to his cluttered desk, opened a drawer, and after several moments of searching, pulled the statute. He read it aloud to Sam, stammering over a few of the words.

“Hell of a note,” Sam snarled when Simmons finished. “I didn’t just fight for New Hampshire. We fought for the whole country, including Virginia, of which this new state was formerly a
large part.”

“You did,” Simmons conceded, “but the General Assembly recently recognized that Kentucky would run out of land if too many veterans from other states made their claims here.”

“Fine thing to tell a man after he’s made a thousand mile trip here,” Sam grumbled. “None of the newspaper notices mentioned this.”

“Unfortunately, Sir, the land laws are confusing, in a constant state of flux, and poorly understood. This has led to many misunderstandings and armed conflicts. We established four courts to hear land disputes at Harrodstown, Louisville, Bryant’s Station, and here at Boonesborough. These courts have done much good, but the settlement of the state has been so rapid, we continue to exist in a state of chaotic confusion. Settlers have claimed and reclaimed, surveyed and resurveyed, patented and repatented scores of highly desirable tracts. Not only have numerous acrimonious disputes occurred, many are unfortunately resolved only with bloodshed. Countless are still unresolved.”

“Hell,” Stephen said, expressing in one word his disappointment and frustration.

Their troubles seemed to multiply with each new day, but Sam refused to succumb to apprehension.

“Might I advise you gentlemen to take a look at Nelson County? It’s still quite rough, but prime land is still available there,” he suggested. “You’d travel there going due west to Harrodsburg, established in ’74 by James Harrod. The area is quite prosperous, with six gristmills in operation for the corn and other grains raised in the area. Harrod’s men constructed Fort Harrod west of Big Spring on the hill, to be safe from flooding. The fortress offers protection for settlers until they can get their
own homes built. It’s one of the largest in Kentucky with more defenders and ammunition than Boonesborough or Logan’s Station. Harrodsburg is located in the bluegrass region and has three warm mineral springs. Settlers seem to thrive there.”

Sam began to wonder if someone paid the man to steer new settlers in that direction.

“Or you could try to get a grant south of the Green River. Until recently, no person could enter a survey within this great area except a soldier. As soon as Kentucky became a state, new legislation opened up the area south of the Green River to any persons possessed of a family and over twenty-one years of age. Such persons are entitled to not less than 100 acres and not more than 200 acres. But, you must be bona fide settlers living on the land and improving it for one year before you come into actual possession.”

The Commissioner described both areas in detail, showing it to them on the map, and gave them a list of sites still available that might meet their needs and be reasonably safe from Indian attacks. “Be sure to mark your boundaries by chopping notches into witness trees, and file your papers as soon as possible,” Simmons said.

They left with instructions for the patent process and a rough map to Nelson County, less than a week away, about 75 miles due west of Boonesborough on the waters of the Salt River. In addition to describing Harrodsburg, Commissioner Simmons told them about Bardstown, the town just beyond Harrodsburg. The seat of Justice for Nelson County, the well-established town was also the home of Cedar Creek Church, organized in 1781. In fact, he said at present the town boasted elegant homes, posh inns, and reputable learning institutions. Best of all, Simmons described the
land around Bardstown as lush rolling verdant pastures, punctuated by stands of Oaks and Walnut trees.

As they left Simmons’ office, Sam could tell Stephen was still worried and would likely remain anxious until he secured his acreage.

“Sounds like we’re headed further west,” Sam said, trying his best to sound optimistic.

“Sam, why were ye so disturbed about the Bounty Grant?” Bear asked. “Ye did na care about land when we started this trip.”

“It’s the principal of the thing. Besides, a man can change what it is he cares about,” he said.

“Looks like we’ll have to keep moving,” Stephen said.

“As long as we do na fall out of the saddle, we’ll still get there,” Bear said.

“That depends on how stout a horse you’re riding,” Stephen countered. “And if it gets hit by lightning.”

Sam shuddered at the recollection of his near encounter with death from a lightning bolt that killed his horse on their trip here. “No one said this was going to be easy. The future belongs to those willing to go after it,” Sam said.

“You’re right,” Stephen agreed.

“Wait here for me a moment. I’m goin’ in this shop to buy some tobacco and a new whetstone for Catherine,” Bear said. “She needs one to sharpen her wee dagger.”

Sam scowled as Bear turned and went into the general store, the Scotsman’s big body taking up the entire entryway.

“Speaking of Catherine, why did you suddenly turn cold
towards her?” Stephen asked. “Every time she’s anywhere around, your face clouds with uneasiness.”

Sam crossed his arms and frowned, surprised by Stephen’s question. He tried to manage a feeble answer, but all he could come up with was, “I don’t want to discuss the matter.”

“If you weren’t so damn independent, you’d realize what a blind fool you’re being.”

“I said, I don’t want to talk about it,” he said, louder this time.

“You have a chance at happiness, Sam, don’t miss it.”

“Damn it, Stephen, mind your own business.”

“This is my business,” Stephen pressed.

“How the hell do you figure that?”

“Two reasons. I told her she was welcome to stay with us and you’re my brother.”

“She stays with us only until she can find a home of her own.”

“If you don’t make a move soon, Bear will,” Stephen said.

Sam glowered at his brother. “If that’s what she wants, so be it.”

“She scares you, doesn’t she?” Stephen asked. “You’ve fought the bloody British when you were outnumbered ten to one, you’ve fought swarms of natives with nothing but your knife between you and a gruesome death, and you’ve faced bears and mountain lions like they were dogs and house cats, but you can’t face her. She scares the hell out of you and you’re too stubborn to admit it.” Stephen stared at him, a haughty rebuke on his face.

Scowling at his brother, he smoldered for a bit before responding. “All right, she scares me. I am not used to being scared. It’s something I don’t do well. You’re a fine one to
condemn stubbornness. You’d take on the fires of hell with no more than a water bucket.”

“And you’d lead the way,” Stephen retorted. “You realize she loves you? I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

Sam didn’t say anything. His insides rolled like the clouds above them. He turned his head slowly to look at Stephen. He felt as if lightning struck him again. He could feel his throat closing up and he found it difficult to even speak. “I…thought she…,” he hesitated, “I thought she wanted Bear.”

“The way a woman acts is often a poor indicator of what she actually wants—sometimes it’s the opposite of what appears obvious. I know it is confusing and can befuddle a man, believe me I know. Women are just not as plain to figure as men are. Like horses, you have to understand their nature to get them to work with you, not against you. In fact, women can be very much like horses. For instance, they prefer a gentle voice and a soft easy touch. There are many other similarities, but I’m getting side tracked. If Catherine paid attention to Bear, it was just to see if you would rise to the competition, but her real target is you.”

A warning voice whispered in his head, arousing old fears and uncertainties. “How do you figure that?”

“Because you two are like two sides of the same coin,” Stephen said. “Don’t be afraid of her. You’re a bigger man than that. Whatever is holding you back is not as important as she is.”

Stephen was right. Could he tell that warning voice inside him to shut the hell up?

“Remember what you told all of us once, when we were trying to decide whether we should make this journey—all life involves risk. That is especially true of love. This risk is yours to take, if you
have the courage,” Stephen added with emphasis.

Sam remained quiet for a moment, and then as casually as he could manage said, “I’ll be right back. I need to buy a new razor. I think it’s time for a shave.”

CHAPTER 17

O
ver the next couple of days, the men decided they should assume their legal problems would eventually be resolved, and Sam told them that they should restock their supplies to prepare for their journey further west, towards Nelson County.

They bought powder and ball, always in short supply, but the shop owner had just received a shipment the day before. They also bought a supply wagon and filled it with saws, augurs, braces, chisels, planes, squares, and other tools and building materials that they would need to establish homesteads once they found land. Lastly, with nearly a dozen horses to care for, they bought a good supply of oats and grain.

This morning, Sam went with Stephen to patronize several of the town’s other shops. His brother bought Jane a new delicate teacup and saucer made in England, some tea, and two new high-waisted gowns that would more comfortably accommodate her rapidly expanding stomach, one practical and one just because he liked it. He said she would look gorgeous in it. For Martha and Polly, Stephen found new dolls.

Sam bought himself a new white linen shirt. The weather was really warming up and it would be cooler than the buckskin he was wearing, he rationalized.

“That shirt will make you look like a proper gentleman,” Stephen teased, after Sam had made the purchase. “Never thought to see you wearing one.”

Irritated by his brother’s mocking tone, he scowled and wondered if Stephen thought he had bought the new shirt to impress Catherine. Well what if he did? How he dressed was his own business. His mouth twisted with exasperation as he ambled over to the store’s knife display.

“I’m looking for a small boy’s knife,” he told the man behind the counter.

The pudgy man wearing spectacles on his long nose pointed to a knife in his display case and said, “That one there once belonged to Daniel Boone when he was a young man.”