Read Wilderness Trail of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 1) Online
Authors: Dorothy Wiley
“And you can earn more money,” William said. “I’m guessing you can read, judging from the Bible and the books by your bed. You could work for a newspaper or at a schoolhouse, or as a nanny. You can come with us till Cat Springs, or all the way to Kentucky if
you want to.”
At that, Stephen gave William a stern sideways look. This was not what they had agreed upon. He had never said that she could go with them all the way to Kentucky. What was William thinking? Kelly was a sweet young lady, but he had no intention of taking on another person to care for.
“Mr. Wyllie, what do you think I should do?” Kelly asked.
The rain grew heavier and began to drip steadily through the roof in several places. Kelly quickly responded, as though she had done the same thing many times before, placing a bucket or bowl beneath each leak.
Stephen cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak but stopped when thunder growled above them. He glanced at William and then at Kelly and then back at William.
“What William says is true,” he finally said to her. “You aren’t safe here. Do you think your father will come looking for you if you leave?”
“Depends. He probably won’t care while he’s drunk. When he sobers, he might get mad if I’m not here to wash his clothes and make his meals. I just don’t know.”
“Can your father read?” he asked.
“Oh yes. He and my Ma were both well-educated in Virginia. He got in some sort of trouble and moved here.”
“What kind of trouble?” William asked.
“I don’t know. Ma would never tell me. She just said ‘the past is past’.”
“I suggest you write a note to leave here for him. You could tell him about the men who attacked you. Tell him we killed your
attackers, but could not wait around for his return and we could not leave you here alone. Let him know you have gone with us for your protection and that you will write him more when you have a chance to send a letter,” Stephen said.
“Sounds like a good plan,” William responded, sounding relieved. “Do you have indigo and quill and some parchment?”
“Not much, but enough to write a short note,” she said. “But….” She lowered her head.
Stephen could understand her mixed emotions. He could tell she wasn’t sure she should abandon her home or her father. Even though he treated her poorly, he was still her father.
Kelly looked up at William, then said, “I have to admit, I had thought about the idea of my own life and leaving this place…I just didn’t how or when…all right, I’ll do it. But I’ll have to take my chickens and my milk cow. I won’t leave them behind. They’re all I’ve got and someone has to take care of them.”
Stephen’s heart twisted when he realized they were the only family she had.
“And we’ll have to take my old mule, Rocky. We can’t leave him. Pa says he’s too old to use as a pack mule up in the mountains, but he’s still of use if he’s not loaded too heavily.”
William glanced at him and grinned. They both knew Stephen had to accept Kelly with her entire menagerie.
“My wife Jane will be thrilled to have some chickens around again, and the children would benefit from some fresh cow’s milk. All we have are two young heifers that are not yet producing milk. I suppose we could build a cage of some sort for the hens and tie it onto that mule. But you’ll have to take care of them. I’m not messing with chickens. Be sure to explain to your father that you took the
mule. I don’t want him thinking we did. I won’t take another man’s animal.”
“I’ll explain, but he won’t care. And I’ll take care of my own animals. And you will have the first eggs the chickens lay,” Kelly said.
William started laughing.
Stephen glared at him. Eggs. He hated eggs. He shook his head as he strode towards the door, muttering under his breath, “God help us—
all
.”
Stephen couldn’t believe what had just happened. He not only had yet another woman joining them on this trip, but an old mule, a milk cow, and chickens too. Well, at least the chickens would make Jane happy. He had to admit, he was glad they were helping Kelly. After her father abandoned her and those scoundrels robbed her of her innocence, the poor girl deserved a chance for a new life. He knew Jane would welcome her. And helping Kelly might help Jane heal too.
He sat down on an old barrel on the porch and watched the rain. He missed Jane. He missed everything about her. Her beautiful smile. The soft lilt of her voice. The sparkle in her green eyes. The smell of roses in her hair. But most of all, he missed the joy of feeling her arms around him and the thrill of loving her. He would do anything to make that happen again.
He would make her happy once more. He had to. Their girls did not die for nothing. They died for their land. Not his land—
their
land. Somehow, he would make Jane understand that. And, believe how much he loved her.
The weather cleared and the three packed to leave. Stephen wanted to get back to Jane and the others as soon as possible.
William built a pack frame and a couple of crude crates out of the weathered boards of the existing coop, causing him to acquire numerous splinters and to swear more than once. Carpentry had never been one of William’s strengths.
Kelly loaded the crates, calling each chicken by their names—Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy. “I have three more books in the Old Testament to go before I get to the book of Samuel, then I’ll have to get a rooster. Can’t have a hen named Samuel after all,” she explained.
Stephen just nodded in agreement. Couldn’t talk much over all the squawking anyway.
William approached the mule. “Do you suppose that old boy will object to me putting this cage full of squawking chickens on his rear end?”
“If he does, they’ll have to walk. I’m not putting chickens on a horse. It would be disrespectful,” Stephen said as he saddled their mounts.
“He’s a pack mule. He won’t mind all that much,” Kelly said.
“Just the same, I’d be obliged, Stephen, if you loaded him,” William said.
“Why should I load it? It’s your cage,” he asked.
“You’re much better with animals than I,” William said.
“Hell. You just want me to be the one to get kicked,” Stephen retorted.
William winked at Kelly. “I thought you’d respect a stubborn old mule for not liking chickens. Kind of takes after you don’t you
think?”
Stephen chuckled, surprising himself that he could.
Stephen and William watched, ready to help if needed, as Kelly packed her few belongings. She put the note to her father on their table and anchored it with the oil lamp.
“I have just one more thing to do,” she said.
Stephen took her things and she strode out the cabin door and headed toward her mother’s grave. Kelly reached down and pulled the weeds away from the headstone. Stephen kept his distance, giving her some privacy to say her goodbye, but his heart clenched when she ran her fingers through each of the letters of her mother’s name. Before leaving, she gathered nearby wildflowers and laid them against the stone.
Kelly mounted the horse that had been Mr. Adams’ and appeared ready to go before Stephen finished securely tying her belongings and the two crates full of squawking chickens to the mule. Feathers flew everywhere.
Looking down at him she said, “Mr. Wyllie I believe Old Rocky likes you. He normally moves all around when my father loads him. He’s just standing there like you were brushing his coat or something.”
“I just told him if he gave me any trouble I’d put lead between his long ugly mule ears,” he said, scowling as he waved a chicken feather away from his face.
William laughed so hard he could barely stay seated on his horse.
To Stephen’s surprise, Kelly smiled broadly as she listened to
William laugh.
When was the last time she heard someone laugh? he wondered.
“I always thought you talked sweetly to animals and that’s how you got them to do what you wanted. Now I know you just threaten their life and ridicule them. That’s your secret.”
Stephen tied lead ropes on the other horses and gave the gentlest one to Kelly to lead and he took the other two. “Let’s go,” he said, as he mounted George.
William went first and Kelly followed. She didn’t look back.
He cracked his whip, letting just the tip lightly touch the back of the cow to urge her forward. As they left, Stephen pondered how long it would be until they caught up with the others. Dragging this entourage down rock-covered hills was going to test his scant patience.
“Mr. Wyllie, you seem to handle that whip with skill,” Kelly remarked.
“I’ve seen him cut off a snake’s head with that thing,” William said.
“Why waste powder on a snake,” he said. “I prefer to save ammunition for two-legged snakes like the kind we left back there.”
“We need to report what happened to the sheriff in the closest town,” William said.
“No, please, no,” Kelly begged. “I don’t want anyone to know what happened back there. It’s bad enough you two know.”
“Maybe we should just leave it alone. What do you think?” William asked him.
“Suits me. Justice has already been served. No point in delaying
our progress any more. A sheriff would probably want us to stay in town until he could verify facts and write up a report. But we will have to tell Jane and the others. They’ll need to understand why we brought her along.”
Kelly moved her horse next to Stephen’s. “Please, no one else, please,” she pleaded, her eyes filled with tears.
“You needn’t worry about what happened to you Kelly. Put it all behind you now,” Stephen said gently.
Kelly just hung her head, her tears falling on the saddle horn. For a long time, every step her mount took shook another tear loose.
CHAPTER 30
J
ane made breakfast that morning with her mind elsewhere. She kept thinking about Stephen. She had slept fitfully, dreaming of him all night. In her dreams, she desperately tried to reach him, to tell him something, but somehow each time she got close to him, he would disappear. She awoke, feeling uneasy and wondering what she had been trying to tell him.
He had left with only her anger to carry with him. She let him ride off on a potentially dangerous undertaking without even saying goodbye. But he hadn’t said goodbye to her either. He just rode off. Rode off with the guilt she mercilessly heaped on him. She could not deny that she had cruelly judged him guilty and made him feel like a criminal.
Could she take back her bitter words? Or would they both have to live with them forever?
The memory of their terrible quarrel—the desperation in his voice, the pain in his eyes—hurt her to the core. But at the time, she still suffered from an unbearable heartache.
She barely noticed as Sam walked up. He bent to turn the strips of nearly burnt venison over with his knife.
“You’re thinking about Stephen aren’t you?” he asked.
“He went off, possibly to grave danger, with only my bitterness in his heart. I was angry. Still am. But—”
As usual, Sam cut to the heart of the matter. “You hold him responsible don’t you?”
“Yes, God help me, I do. She struggled not to cry, but her eyes burned with tears wanting to be shed. “I’m also terrified, scared out of my mind that more of us will die.”