Wilderness Trail of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 1) (11 page)

“Are they going?” Sam asked, the minute Stephen returned later that day.

“William and John are joining us,” Stephen answered, dismounting, “but not Edward. He thinks we’re making a mistake.”

“That’s Edward’s problem,” Sam snarled, “he thinks too damn much.”

“If you and Bear are willing, we leave in two days,” he said, as he led George to the barn.

“Good. It’s time to stop lathering and start shaving,” Sam said.

Stephen wondered if Sam was trying to appear confident or if he really had no doubts.

As they walked back toward the house, he heard Jane call out, “Stew’s ready and the biscuits are hot. Please dust off your boots before you gentlemen come inside.”

“Don’t let Bear eat my biscuits,” Sam yelled back, used to competing for food with his brothers.

“I made an extra pan full just for you,” Jane answered.

That was smart. He had seen Sam eat a dozen biscuits at a sitting.

“Jane, you’re an angel here on earth,” Sam said, climbing the porch steps two at a time and then throwing the door open.

“If she’s an angel, then God must have his hands full,” Stephen
said, wiping some flour off her face. Even in an apron covered with food stains, she was a vision.

Jane swatted him with her dishtowel, but she still gave him a big smile.

Stephen sat at the head of their old pine table, the tantalizing sight of steaming stew, hot biscuits, fresh butter, and a cobbler, all making his mouth water.

“Bear, sit here beside Stephen and Sam sit across from Bear. We’ll put the girls down here by me. Martha, put the butter over there by Uncle Sam. You know how he likes to butter up his biscuits,” Jane said.

“I don’t know why you have to make a biscuit soggy with butter before you can eat it,” Stephen complained. “You ought to just eat the thing the way God made them.”

“God didn’t make the biscuits, Jane did,” Sam said.

“I remember eatin’ some of Stephen’s wee biscuits on one of our first hunting trips. As hard and as flat as horseshoes,” Bear said, then threw back his head and laughed.

“Why do you think I married Jane? It wasn’t just because she was the prettiest woman in New Hampshire, it was her biscuits,” Stephen said.

All the girls giggled, even baby Mary.

“Mommy, Bear let me ride with him on his new horse today. He looks like the camel in the drawing in the Bible,” Amy said.

“Who? The horse or Bear?” Stephen asked in jest.

“The horse, silly,” Amy answered.

“Camel. You know that would be a fitting name for that big
dun,” Sam said.

Stephen had thought the horse had an oddly large head, but hadn’t said anything to Bear about it. A man can be sensitive when it comes to his horse.

“Les call him Camel. Would that be okay with you Bear?” Amy asked.

“Aye, wee princess. We’ll call him Camel, but only because ye named him,” Bear said, looking at Sam.

“The Bible says the camels carried wise men,” Martha said.

“That makes the name even more ideal,” Stephen said.

“Stephen, I want Sam and Bear to take the girls into town till we’re sure it’s safe. Bomazeen’s words about Martha making a good slave for the squaws kept haunting me all day. They can stay with Edward’s family. I know Anne won’t mind. I’ll keep Mary with me.”

Stephen nodded his agreement. “Good idea, but I want Sam and Bear to get them into town before dark. Get their things packed.”

Jane set out a small bag and filled it with a change of clothes for the girls then she got their faces washed, hair braided, and their traveling shoes on.

They stood ready to go in no time. “Uncle Sam and Bear are taking us to Uncle Ed’s house,” Polly cheerfully informed her father as he came into their room. “Mama says we’re overdue a visit to our cousins.”

He gave Polly a hug. “Indeed, your mother is correct. Now let’s go down and find Uncle Sam and Bear. He scooped Amy up and picked up the girls’ bag.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he yelled back to Jane to get the girls’ coats.

Bear and Sam strode out and began tightening the cinches on their already saddled horses.

“Sam, Bear, why don’t you return tomorrow after you’ve had a chance to see about your own places. I know you both left suddenly,” Stephen suggested.

Jane kissed and hugged each of the girls in their birth order, as was her custom. “Be good and mind your aunt and uncle,” she said.

“It would be good to take care of a few things before we leave for Kentucky,” Bear said. “But keep yer eyes open.”

Stephen didn’t need the warning, but knew Bear felt better saying it.

After tending to George and the other animals, Stephen came inside, bolted all the doors, and shuttered the windows. He peered out a front window before locking the final shutter. “Bomazeen probably wouldn’t have healed enough yet to travel and it isn’t the custom of the Pennacooks to attack at night, but I’m not taking any chances.”

“I’ll feed Mary and put her to bed, then let’s sit by the fire and talk awhile,” Jane suggested, hoping for one last chance to talk him out of this.

After placing his loaded musket and pistol nearby, Stephen towed a chair up to the hearth and sat next to her. For several minutes neither spoke, as he caressed her hand and they both stared into the flames, the peaceful crackling of the fire the only sound in the room.

Stephen peered over at her, sharing his feelings with just a look. She saw so much love in his eyes, so much that didn’t need to be spoken aloud. His eyes spoke the silent but expressive language of love.

But there was so much else that did need saying. Too many questions. So many holes in her confidence. But, she couldn’t bring herself to crush his dream. Couldn’t voice the words to stop him.

“Your eyes are even more beautiful with firelight in them,” he said. “Come sit on my lap so I can see them even better.”

His voice warm and tender, she was helpless to resist. She moved to his lap, giving up hope of sharing her real thoughts. Instead, she said, “It’s not my eyes you want to see.”

“Your eyes and every other part of you,” he answered honestly. His strong hands held her waist and hips close to him.

“Every part?”

“Every,” he repeated.

Her face heated as she wrapped her arms across his chest and back, feeling solid strength beneath his shirt. It seemed impossible, given the weight on her mind, but the feel of his rock hard muscles made her ache with a deep need for him. Giving in to her body’s demands, she kissed his forehead, his cheeks, and his eyes tenderly, before ravaging his mouth not so tenderly. She felt his body respond with a surge of desire but knew he would hold himself back, letting her enjoy his unhurried affection before the fire of love consumed them both.

She should resist temptation, at least for the moment. She needed time alone with him to make him understand why she wanted to stay in her home. But against his tender assault on her body, she could mount no defense. And against his dreams, she had
no shield. She could not stop herself, or him.

She tugged off Stephen’s shirt, revealing his powerful set of shoulders and tight muscled stomach. Despite his medium stature, her husband was wiry strong and she thought spectacularly built. She caressed his broad chest, a wall of muscles rising beneath her touch. Her fingertips tingled as she slid them slowly across his silky chest hairs. Even that simple touch brought her pleasure. A delicious shiver of passion rippled through her.

Stephen lightly fingered a lock of hair that touched her cheek, then sank his hands into her curls and pressed his lips against hers for a long unhurried moment.

The kiss hummed inside her heart. His lips felt soft and warm—always the best thing she had ever tasted—and made a tingle of pleasure rush through her chest. Kissing was her favorite part of lovemaking and he made a considerable effort to be sure she enjoyed it. He would linger at her mouth, teasing her lips, softly, unhurriedly, until she left all the cares of motherhood behind. Transported on a gentle wispy cloud, until the only thing she wanted was more of him.

Then, he would turn his attention to the rest of her, as he did now. His lips left hers to nibble on her earlobe. Then he seared a path down her neck, her shoulders. His lips recaptured hers, this time more urgent and exploring. His hand slipped under her dress and skimmed across her thigh.

The gentle movement of his hand sent a bolt of need deep within her. She curled into his chest.

A smoldering flame in his eyes, Stephen took her hand to lead her to bed. Shivers of desire made her tremble in anticipation.

He would take them both to their own private world of soul-
reaching ecstasy.

Afterwards, she knew he would dream—dream of what waited beyond the horizon.

CHAPTER 12

S
tephen withdrew his savings at the bank and settled his financial affairs. Land in Kentucky was selling for a minimum of a dollar an acre and he would need all he had inherited and saved, although they all hoped to be able to get land grants and save their money for livestock, equipment, and building homes. He also found a buyer for his cattle, all but his best young bull, and two good-looking heifers. He would take them with him. He had fed corn to the bull separately from the other cattle to tame him and get him used to coming to Stephen’s feed bucket. Not yet old enough for breeding, the young bull would be easy to handle. He’d follow Stephen and the feed anywhere and the heifers would follow the bull. They would be the start of his new herd.

With his financial tasks completed, he joined his brothers, still hard at work loading the wagon parked in front of Edward’s store. “Aren’t you finished yet?”

“You could help some you know,” John grumbled.

“I could, but then who would ensure you loaded everything properly?” Stephen said, only half in jest.

He double-checked the long supplies list with meticulous detail,
knowing that adequate provisions could make the difference between success and failure in the wilderness. And he had no intention of failing.

John and Bear loaded the last of the supplies. Kegs of salt pork, half barrels of flour and cornmeal, a barrel of fat, rifles, ammunition, candlewicks, and other supplies Stephen had ordered, filled the wagon. Stephen could see that they had arranged everything with care. Space was precious, so they could take only what was essential.

What little space still left when they finished would be all the room allowed Jane for her trunks. She had struggled for hours over what to take and what to leave behind. In the end, she took only what she could not replace, a few items of strong sentimental value, and absolute necessities like blankets, woolen stockings, scissors, needles and thread. She and the girls were spending the afternoon with Edward’s wife and children. It would be their last chance to be together and it gave Jane a chance to give many of her things to her nieces. What remained would go to the needy families in the area or be sold for their value.

Edward went to the back of his crowded stockroom and then returned to the store’s porch. “I want you to have this whiskey and this case of wine. When you’re sitting around the campfire some cold night, maybe you’ll say a toast to me.”

“I’d rather you were there toasting with us,” William said, taking the whiskey.

Edward’s eyes met Stephen’s.

“Edward, let’s go inside while they finish,” Stephen said.

The air inside of the well-stocked store teemed with exotic smells—cinnamon and pepper, rum and port, tea and oranges.
Other merchandise gleamed at them as they passed by—decanters, wine glasses, silver trays, pewter, knives, snuffboxes, and brass shoe buckles.

As they reached his desk, Edward yanked off his coat and slapped it onto a chair. “Don’t even start Stephen. I know you and Sam think me the coward of the family, but it’s my life—not yours. I will decide what is best for me and mine. Not you,” he nearly shouted, as he crumpled the supplies list and tossed it into the potbellied stove.

“I don’t think ill of you because you decided to stay. God leads men to different destinies. Yours will be different from ours. And we appreciate you handling our properties. I would have been reluctant to entrust them to anyone else.”