Captive Bride (39 page)

 
"I have been to St. Louis to sell my furs and I brought a woman back with me," Hawk blurted out before Bear-Claw could reach the door.

 
The abrupt comment stopped the old mountain man in his tracks, and his head swiveled around to peer incredulously at Hawk. "You took a woman ... a white woman?" he croaked in astonishment. "What devil possessed you to traipse all the way to St. Louis without informing me first?"

 
"Because you complained about the journey five years ago and I had already made up my mind to go." Slowly, Hawk walked up beside Bear-Claw, bracing himself for a lengthy sermon.

 
"Made up your mind to go?" Bear-Claw prodded, his thick brows forming a suspicious frown.

"I was determined to confront Aubrey DuBois and to ensure reasonable prices for the trappers at next summer's
rendezvous
."

 
Bear-Claw shook his head and grumbled in disgust. "You might as well have slammed your head against a rock wall." He snorted derisively. "DuBois is a stubborn, bitter man. You wasted your time going to see him."

"I was determined to make the effort on behalf of the other trappers," Hawk insisted. Then he peered curiously at the old man. "Do you have any idea why Aubrey—"

 
Anticipating the question, Bear-Claw cut in. "I knew him when he first came into the mountains, when he was a young man full of dreams." His rugged features were clouded by another frown. "We were even friends once, before his hatred poisoned him, before he turned against the mountains and all those who-inhabit them."

"What caused his bitterness?" Hawk pressed.

 
He was most anxious to know why Aubrey had flown into a rage when he had learned Hawk's true name. Bear-Claw held the key to Aubrey's secretive past, and Hawk was willing to bet the hermit knew exactly what had caused the feud between DuBois and Baudelairs. But for some reason the old man was reluctant to enlighten him. Again Hawk posed the probing question.

 
Again Bear-Claw openly avoided it, countering with an inquiry of his own. "Who is this woman you brought back with you? I hope to hell she can cook. Is she pretty? Lord, it has been along time since I've laid eyes on a white woman."

 
"Her name is Rozalyn DuBois," Hawk informed the mountain man, carefully awaiting his companion's reaction.

 
"What?" Bear-Claw hooted in disbelief, and his wide eyes swung to Hawk. "You married Aubrey DuBois' daughter. Sweet mercy! I never believed Aubrey would be so forgiving!"

 
"No ... I didn't exactly marry her." Hawk stumbled over his words like a tongue-tied idiot. There was no delicate way to explain his rash action. Hawk feared Bear-Claw would be questioning his comrade's sanity, or lack of it, by the time he fumbled his way through an explanation.

"Well, what exactly did you do?" Bear-Claw gave

Hawk the evil eye. "I can hardly wait to hear the mangled workings of your mind. It is beyond me why Aubrey would allow one of his clan in the mountains, especially when she is accompanied by a Baudelair."

 
"DuBois didn't allow it. The man despises me for some unknown reason, which you apparently know and I do not. The truth of the matter is I kidnapped the lady," Hawk announced, bracing himself for another loud crow of disbelief. When it had come and gone, Hawk hurried to explain "DuBois refused to grant the trappers lower prices on their supplies, and he threatened to attack my caravan if I dared to compete against him at rendezvous. Kidnapping his daughter and ransoming her for lower prices was the only way to counter his malicious threats."

 
Bear-Claw's shaggy brown mane whipped about his face in disarray as he shook his head. "I taught you everything you needed to know about surviving in the mountains. I nursed your wounds when you met with disaster. But had I known you were so short on common sense, I would have given you up for a lost cause long ago.”

 
"I knew exactly what I was doing!" Hawk replied self-righteously. "I have in my custody the one thing DuBois will not tolerate handing over to me—because my name is Baudelair. Now, are you going to tell me why this furrier despises me or must I ask other trappers who have been in these mountains for a long time?"

 
Again, Bear-Claw evaded the question, and his thoughtful gaze sought the closed door. "Rozalyn? Did you say Aubrey's daughter was named Rozalyn?" A deep skirl of laughter rumbled in his chest. "That is irony in its purest form."

 
A frown distorted Hawk's craggy features. "You find her name amusing?" Damn, one or the other of us is crazed, he thought sourly, Bear-Claw for voicing such strange remarks or myself for dragging Rozalyn with me into the wilderness. "It seems your long hibernation in the mountains has eroded your brain, either that or you are plagued with a distorted sense of humor." His tone carried an undertone of mockery, his eyes a sparkle of impatience. "I want to know what started this mysterious feud."

 
Bear-Claw's mirth evaporated and his expression sobered. Then his gaze shifted from the door to Hawk's annoyed frown. "Does she know about me? Have you told your woman that I once knew her father ... in the beginning . . . before he became the trapper's back-stabbing foe?"

 
"She knows nothing. I have not yet introduced her to any of the trappers who roam these mountains." Hawk peered bemusedly at Bear-Claw. My, but he was behaving strangely.

 
"I wish to keep it that way." His eyes bored into Hawk's, anticipating no argument. "The less Rozalyn knows about the man she calls her father, the better. She is his one link with the tormenting past, a living symbol of all the bitterness DuBois would have buried. But if he truly wanted to forget, why did he select that particular name for his child?" Bear-Claw mused aloud. A speculative frown creased his bushy brows. "I wonder if Aubrey considered giving her that name the best way to deal with his torment. Or perhaps he could not truly forget, would not let himself forget, what happened."

 
Hawk was about to fire another impatient question when the shabby hermit poked his head inside the cabin to look at the sleeping beauty nestled beneath the thick fur quilts. A rueful smile touched Bear-Claw's parched lips when he spied Rozalyn's delicate features and dark lustrous mane spilling over her pillow.

 
"Did you feed her a potion so she would sleep away the winter?" Bear-Claw smirked. "I wouldn't be surprised after hearing how you've spent the past few months." Quietly, he closed the door and then plopped down on the bench outside the cabin. "While you're unloading the remainder of your supplies you can explain everything that has transpired since last we met."

 
"I will be happy to ... as soon as you tell me why Aubrey DuBois has such a bitter hatred for the Baudelair clan," Hawk parried, his narrowed gaze holding Bear-Claw hostage.

 
Bear-Claw's eyes took on a faraway look. Then, heaving a sigh, he nodded in compliance. "It's too late to undo the damage you have unwittingly done. But, yes, I will tell you why you have ignited DuBois' wrath, and why he thinks the Baudelairs have wronged him. I pity you, Hawk. Aubrey will never forgive and forget. I fear you have disturbed a sleeping lion."

 
One of many, Hawk thought resentfully. Eventually he must contend with Aubrey, and there was Half-Head to consider. Hawk wondered if it would be a matter of time before that murdering white man came to finish what he had begun on the banks of the North Platte. Then his apprehension mounted as Bear-Claw unfolded the painful events of the past. Now DuBois' behavior made sense to Hawk. No wonder the man had flown into a sputtering rage. Bear-Claw's rendition of the incident that had embittered Aubrey assured Hawk that he and Rozalyn could have no future together, even if they wanted one, and despair closed in on him. He cursed himself for abducting this blue-eyed minx. Had he known of the tragic feud between the Baudelairs and DuBois, he never would have gone near Rozalyn. But he had, and the cross he was now forced to bear was as great as the one Aubrey labored under.

Chapter 19

 
A quiet, groggy moan echoed in the darkness as Rozalyn roused sluggishly, and her heavily lidded eyes circled the unfamiliar confines of the cabin. The rustic lodge was fifteen feet long, and its primitive walls were made of logs packed with mud and moss to prevent the drafty mountain wind from seeping inside. The split-log floor was randomly strewn with thick fur rugs to ward off the cool dampness; the ceiling above her was no more than a clapboard roof held together with wooden pins. Although the shack was crude there was a certain raw beauty to it.

 
Rozalyn's hazy gaze settled on the fireplace and the blackened stone hearth. Silhouetted by the flames was the awesome form of a man in buckskins. Although his back was to her, she knew who her companion was, and she was most thankful he was the first living creature she saw upon awakening. Through her tormented dreams one thread of sanity had been a constant. She had continued to see Hawk's ruggedly handsome face. He had been there, just beyond the darkness, calling to her.

 
"Hawk?" Her throaty voice drifted across the room, and Rozalyn managed a groggy smile when he swiveled around in his chair to peer at her. But suddenly a startled gasp burst from and her and she shrank away from the unfamiliar mountain man who rose and approached her. What had Hawk done to her now? Dumped her in a total stranger's lap while she recovered from her injuries? Damn the man. He hadn't shown her the smallest amount of consideration.

"Where is Hawk and where am I?" Rozalyn asked.

 
A broad grin split Bear-Claw's lips as his keen gaze swept over her shapely form. "Hawk brought you to his cabin after you were injured." His silent footsteps brought him to the edge of the cot, where he towered over his wary patient. The lovely young woman looked out of place on a crude bed made of split logs and softened only by a mattress stuffed with grass and leaves, but her exquisitely delicate face made Bear-Claw smile again. He knew why Hawk had been unable to leave this fetching young lass behind. She was a rare beauty.

 
"Since Hawk was most anxious to set his beaver traps I offered to stay here with you while you were on the mend." His weathered hand brushed across her brow to ensure that her fever had ebbed. "My name is Bear-Claw. I have known Hawk since he was a skinny-legged pigeon fluttering around the forests. In fact, I can even boast that I taught the young stripling to be self-sufficient in these mountains. When I first began to instruct him, he couldn't shoot a lick. And what he did with a butcher knife was downright disgraceful. Couldn't skin a hide clean to save his life." Bear-Claw chuckled to himself. "But time has been good to Hawk. He learned quickly and has become proficient with a rifle and a knife. Although I proudly claim to have taught him to survive, and most successfully, I do not, however, take the blame for his foolishness. That, he must have acquired all by himself."

 
Her companion seemed friendly enough—he'd very nearly talked her ears off in these few moments—still, Rozalyn eyed the bulky creature with extreme caution.

Bear-Claw was the image of a mountain man, she noted. Around his neck dangled a necklace of claws, similar to those of the monstrous grizzly that had swatted at her head. No doubt, this was how the crusty pioneer had acquired his nickname. Coarse, bushy hair framed his weather-beaten features and dangled loosely about his broad shoulders, and his skin, due to constant exposure to the elements, was almost as dark as an Indian's. That and his sinewy physique gave him a rough, hardy appearance. His clothes were similar to Hawk's, but they were adorned with even more beads and polished bones. Although Bear-Claw looked as old as father time, Rozalyn doubted the man could have been so agile if he were as ancient as he appeared.

 
Since Rozalyn was hesitant to speak, Bear-Claw rattled on in his usual, long-winded manner. "I cooked you some rabbit stew to warm your insides. Though it isn't my specialty, I have received a good many compliments from wayward travelers who have gone long days without nourishment. I don't imagine it compares to the delicacies you are accustomed to eating, but it will sustain you just the same. Shall I fetch you a bowl?"

"
Merci
," Rozalyn murmured, forcing a meager smile.

 
When Bear-Claw spun about and strode back to the kettle that hung over the hearth, she eased into an upright position. Stars swam before her eyes and the room tilted sideways, then threatened to slip out from under her. Deciding it best to remain abed until she had regained her equilibrium, Rozalyn wilted back to the cot.

 
When Bear-Claw saw the raven-haired beauty sink back onto the fluffy mattress, he snickered softly. "Still a mite groggy, I suspect. 'Tis no matter,
mam'selle
. I've got no aversion to spoon-feeding my patient." When the mountain man had parked himself on a chair beside the bed, he dipped up some broth and offered it to his reluctant companion. "It isn't poison," he assured her with a gentle smile that melted the coarseness of his features. "If Hawk didn't trust me to nurse you he wouldn't have left you in my care. I know I'm not much to look at, but you need not fear for your safety. I never did take to manhandling women and I have no respect for those who do."