Wilderness Trail of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 1) (37 page)

Stephen seemed barely conscious, but Sam suspected it was mostly from fatigue and exposure. He checked his brother’s pulse. It beat slow but strong. For that, he gave thanks. He quickly checked for other serious wounds. A scratch ran across his chest, and bite-marks punctured both arms. Jane would need to clean the wounds with whiskey and stitch them. Blood dripped into one of his brother’s eyes from a small scalp wound but he was otherwise intact.

Everywhere Sam touched, Stephen felt like ice.

The three put Stephen’s boots back on him and then his coat.

“Where’s his shirt?” William asked.

“He used it for a sling for Little John’s arm,” Sam explained. “We’ve got to get him warm now, or he won’t make it back to camp.”

“But how?” William asked. “There’s no hope for a fire with everything so saturated, including us.”

“I’ll hurry back for the horses. Then ye can put him on my saddle in front of me. My body will warm,” Bear said. He took off, splashing through water, even before he finished the sentence.

Stephen needed help now. Bear was as cold and wet as the rest of them and even his big hairy body would provide little warmth. “Drag that damn wolf over here,” Sam told William, urgency in his voice. “Then go get the other one.”

William had one wolf back in a minute, and then quickly went after the bigger of the two.

Sam turned his brother on his side and pushed the still warm animal, up against his back, and then as soon as William brought it, pushed the second beast against his front side. Then Sam draped the neck of the front wolf onto Stephen’s neck.

He noticed both wolves had severe cuts and slashes on nearly
every leg and one leg on the larger black fiend hung nearly severed. The stomach of the other had a deep gash, evidently opened by Stephen’s hatchet. He marveled at the courage his brother found to survive the attack.

He cut the tails off both wolves, wrapped, and then tied them around Stephen’s hands. The heavy air held the musty scent of the wild animals and the shared apprehension of the two men.

Sam finally stood.

William looked worried. “Is he going to make it?”

“Hard to say,” Sam whispered.

“If he comes around soon, he’ll recover quickly. If he stays out, he’s chilled to his core. His heart may be too cold to get his blood flowing again,” Sam said.

William knelt down, pressed the carcass nearest him up closer to Stephen’s chest, and held it there with his hands.

After several long interminable minutes, Stephen started to stir and finally opened his eyes. They glistened unnaturally in the dark.

Stephen screamed as his eyes flew open. The wolf was right next to him! Horrorstruck, he thrust the beast away and pushed himself up. Flailing his arms around him in a wild frenzy, he grabbed his hatchet. Never comprehending the wolves were motionless, or that Sam and William stood nearby, he slammed the hatchet into the wolf’s neck.

He stood, swaying on his feet and glaring at the wolves. They weren’t moving. Were they dead?

“Stephen,” Sam shouted. “They’re dead. The wolves are dead!”

When he stopped and looked up, Sam grabbed the hatchet, and handed it to William.

His brothers were here? They seemed to be trying to tell him something, but he could barely hear him. He couldn’t think. But he remembered that he just fought a battle for his life, his entire being consumed with trying to stay alive. He shook his head, trying to understand what had happened and what was happening.

“He’s delirious with rage and fatigue,” he heard Sam say.

“We’re here Stephen. We found you. We’ll help you,” William said. “Bear’s bringing our mounts.”

“Savage fury isn’t something easily turned off,” Sam said. “Give him few minutes.”

Slowly, Stephen started to calm and his breathing began to slow somewhat. He glared directly at Sam, then at William. Recognition finally came into his head.

“Did…I ki..kill them?” he stammered, blood dripping from his shaking hands.

“Fending off an attack by two wolves is a remarkable feat. Both were dying and started running off when they heard us coming. We only finished them off for you,” Sam explained.

“If they were running off, why were they next to me?”

“We put those beasts close to you to get you warmed up,” Sam explained.

Judging from the warmth coming back into his body, Sam’s plan had worked, although he didn’t appreciate waking next to the fiends.

“Take it easy, you’re leaking blood too fast for you to be moving around,” William said.

William applied pressure to Stephen’s neck wound, while Sam helped lean him against the tree trunk.

“Sam, they nearly had me.” Stephen panted the words. “When that big black monster ripped my neck, I thought I was about to be eaten alive. But I didn’t give up. I kept fighting like I knew you would.”

“You did fine,” Sam said, “mighty fine.”

“Jane? Is Jane all right?” he asked, still shaking somewhat.

“Yes, and so are the girls. John’s with them,” William said. “She’s sick with worry though. We need to get you back to her soon or she’ll be out searching for you herself.”

“Little John?” Stephen nearly pleaded the question.

“Jane’s tending to him. In a lot of pain, but he should be fine. Going to make a good hunter one of these days,” Sam said.

“And a good man,” he said, feeling weak but more like himself. He slid down the tree trunk to sit and after several minutes his breathing calmed and the blood stopped dripping from his neck.

“I’m sorry you got separated,” Sam said. “I tried looking for you, but the rain was so heavy I couldn’t see a thing, and I needed to get help for Little John.”

“I’m just glad you found me when you did.”

“Me too,” Sam and William both said at once.

Bear arrived with their horses and as soon as he saw his owner, George yanked away and galloped to Stephen, snorting and stomping his feet. The stallion acted as though he knew something was wrong.

“Whoa now,” he soothed. “I’m just fine now.” He reached up
and with still cold fingers, stroked George’s wet nose. The stallion calmed and stood still, letting the rein drop in Stephen’s lap.

After tying the other three horses, Bear helped Sam skin the wolves. Better than blankets and waterproof, Sam wanted to use the furs to keep Stephen warm until they made it back to camp. Now the two wolves would help save his life, not take it from him.

In the meantime, William took a cloth from his saddlebag, moistened it with water pooled on leaves, and started cleaning as much blood and dirt off Stephen’s face and neck as he could. “Your face is bruised and filthy,” William said as he began, “but remarkably, it’s only nicked in a few places.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want you to be the only handsome one in the family,” Stephen said, feeling more like himself.

With each passing minute, he seemed to gain strength. He had survived. As soon as he could hold Jane in his arms, everything would be right again.

“I still have the meat,” he said, pointing to the bundle that hung high up in the tree.

“I knew you would,” Sam said.

CHAPTER 41

T
hankful to be alive, beyond anything he felt before now, Stephen and the group slowly made their way back to their camp through the dark wet wilderness. He could not wait to see Jane again. He had come so close to making her a widow. Now, he just wanted to be back in her arms again.

The miserably cold wind and rain moved further south and they were all beginning to thaw out. With the help of the wolf hides tied to him, warmth crept back into his body. The damp air smelled like wet earth and leaves. Every sodden tree, branches drooping, dripped with the last drops of the violent storm.

Before long, with each step of his horse, the drops seemed to grow heavier with menace. The forest seemed unnaturally quiet. Instinctively, he knew something was wrong. He also saw Sam growing more apprehensive by the minute. His brother’s senses, honed by years in the wild, seemed to be on high alert. Stephen watched as Sam scanned the surrounding woodland again and again. This went beyond his ordinary watchfulness.

Now, his own skin crawled. Yet, he couldn’t figure out what was making both of them so uneasy.

He glanced over at Bear and William. They seemed to sense danger too.

The unknown threat made the group slow as they drew closer to their camp.

He steered George alongside Sam and asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Possibly,” Sam whispered. “Wait here.”

“No, I’m going with you,” he said, his tone leaving no room for debate.

“Tell the others to wait here. Tell them to stay silent and load their weapons. Then follow me.”

Now Stephen worried in earnest. Sam’s instincts were never wrong.

Stephen silently made his way forward, following behind Sam, the only sound coming from a forest of dripping leaves and pine needles. Dark speculation filled him with unease.

Within minutes, hidden in heavy brush, they studied their camp. Using the dry wood they stored under the wagons in a storm, the group had managed to get a large fire blazing. The firelight made the drops of moisture on the branches surrounding his head sparkle and let him see the campsite clearly.

Then his stomach vaulted with the intensity of his horror. He blinked hard, hoping that fatigue made him see an illusion. But it was no illusion—it was Chief Wanalancet himself and four muscular braves. He recognized the Chief, having seen Wanalancet once before when Sam helped to mediate a peace pact between several tribes and the colonists.

“Bloody hell!” Stephen mouthed silently.

In addition to a bow, each Pennacook brave carried a rifle and knives. Their dark wet hair and exposed skin looked polished in the fire’s light. Except for mud on the legs of their horses, tied nearby, they seemed unaffected by the storm.

Jane stood by the fire, as Wanalancet circled, studying her. Her long hair appeared damp and even wilder than normal. Her bright eyes shot daggers of anger at Wanalancet and followed the man’s movements. He prayed Jane’s temper would not get her killed and hoped he could control his own mounting rage.

John lay motionless on the ground nearby, his hands and feet tied. Other than a bloodied face, he appeared to be unharmed. The children were tied together around one tree, the two girls weeping quietly while Little John, in obvious pain, whimpered pitifully. Anger swelled in his chest and he gnashed his teeth.

Two braves held Catherine and two held Kelly. Both women appeared disheveled and highly agitated, as if they had fought hard, but finally gave up struggling. All four braves seemed to be awaiting instructions from Wanalancet, while they gaped at the two women eagerly and longingly. He suspected it wouldn’t be long before Wanalancet gave his braves what they wanted.

He glanced over at Sam. He could tell his brother itched to pull his knife, but would think with his head not just his gut. Men who didn’t wound up dead.

Sam turned silently, and they quickly headed back toward William and Bear.

His mind raced faster than he walked. The Indian that had escaped when he killed Bomazeen must have told Wanalancet about Jane escaping and confirmed that she was as beautiful as Bomazeen
had undoubtedly claimed. The more striking a woman, the more Bomazeen would have gotten for her in trade. As they all suspected, Bomazeen had singled Jane out for the Chief for her beauty and red hair. The Chief would also have learned that her family was following the Great Indian Warpath. Wanalancet would be familiar with the trail, used for centuries by the northern and southern tribes for trade and war. For the Chief, it would just be a matter of staying out of sight of other travelers until he caught up to Jane.

As soon as they were out of earshot of the camp, he quietly asked Sam, “Why did that son-of-a-bitch follow this far into the wilderness? And how do we kill them?”

“The Chief must have made a wedding pact with his Great Spirit,” Sam whispered. “In Wanalancet’s mind, he was already wed to Jane. I’ve heard of similar spirit pacts when they chose wives from neighboring tribes. Wanalancet suffered the humiliation of losing Jane twice and must have decided that the Great Spirit demanded that he claim her himself. Whatever his motivation, Wanalancet is obsessed with having Jane. If we don’t respond correctly, we could all die.”