Dorothy Garlock - [Wabash River] (14 page)

Seven

The night was extremely dark. Mike and Daniel had built a small fire in the clearing beside the woodpile and the men sat around it, smoking and telling yarns.

“That thar grizzly was ten feet high if’n he was a foot,” Jonas said. “I was up as far in the aspen as I could get ’n he was areachin’ up ’n strainin’ to pull down the tree. I had me a whopper of a chaw in my mouth. When the aspen begun to crack, I knowed what I had to do. I spit that wad right square in that grizzly’s eye. He let out a roar ya could a heard if’n ya’d been dead, ’n let loose his hold on the tree. The tree flew up so hard I was throwed off my perch. I tell ya, I flew through the air like’n I was a bird ’n landed right slap-dab in the middle of the river. Course I can’t swim none ’n was pert nigh as bad off as I when the grizzly treed me, but then this here big old elk come aswimmin’ by. I grabbed on to his tail ’n hung on—”

“Ah, shoot!” Daniel said. “I was about to believe the part about the grizzly.”

“Don’t ya ever believe no tale Jonas tells ya, young feller,” Albert cautioned. “He jist sits round dreamin’ up lies to tell when he can get a ear to hear ’em.”

“The one I tell ’bout the catfish ain’t no lie, Albert. Ya know it ain’t. Ya was thar.”

“Tell it, Mr. Jonas. I don’t care if it’s a lie or not.” Mike spoke as he placed several small sticks on the fire. It blazed up, showing that Zack had fallen asleep on his father’s shoulder.

Gavin McCourtney had sat quietly, smoking a long-stemmed pipe, chuckling occasionally at one of the tall tales the long hunters were telling.

Rain watched the doorway of the house, waiting for Amy to come out. He had heard the clock strike the hour several minutes ago. He would give her a while longer, he decided, before he went in to get her. He wasn’t going back on his word and he wasn’t going to let her go back on hers. Since he was primed to talk to her, he would do it tonight.

“Mr. McCourtney knows some good stories,” Daniel said. “He told me one while we were on the keelboat coming down the river. Tell them about the leper—uh—”

“Tis leprechauns ye’re thinkin’ of, laddie.”

“Tell them, Mr. McCourtney,” Daniel said. “Tell them how they live in the trees, and if you can catch one, he’ll lead you to a treasure.”

“Tis a tale the Irish hand down from generation to generation. Some swear to the truth of it. In the woods on a moonlit night tis said ya can see the wee creatures dancin’ in the moonlight. On their heads are tall pointed caps and on their feet shoes with tinkling bells . . .”

The door opened and candlelight spilled out into the darkness. Amy stood for an instant in the doorway before she stepped out and closed the door behind her. Rain got to his feet and walked swiftly across the yard. She stood with her back to the wall of the house, almost invisible in her long buckskin shirt and britches. Without hesitation Rain took her arm and propelled her toward the road.

“Come. We’ll walk a ways.”

“What do you want to talk about?” Amy asked because she thought she had to say something.

“What do you have to say?” The question stunned her and she stopped. His hand on her elbow put her feet into motion again as they walked on.

“About what?”

“About what Miss Woodbury told you.”

They reached the old barracks building that had been used during the Indian wars to house patrols. Farr used it now for a storage building. Amy pulled her elbow from Rain’s grasp and moved away from him.

“I’m disappointed . . . for Farr and Libby.”

“Did Miss Woodbury tell you why we’ll go on ahead?”

“Oh, yes. She said
Willy
would be worried about her, and that you said you could travel faster if you went without the rest of us.”

“What she said is true, but it isn’t all.”

“It’s enough.”

Rain took her arm again and pulled her to a stop. “Why can’t we talk without snarling at each other?”

“Who’s snarling?”

“You are. Come sit down. I want to tell you about Colby and Willa.”

Amy sat on a felled tree trunk and Rain stood in front of her with his foot on the log as if he expected her to jump up and run. There was a long silence while Amy waited for him to speak again. She could feel his eyes on her face and was glad he couldn’t see the flush that flagged her cheekbones.

“Well?” she asked when she couldn’t bear the silence any longer.

“Colby wants to buy out Farr, but because of Willa’s condition he can’t leave Carrolltown until the first of May.” Patiently, using more words than he normally used, he told her the reason why Farr would stay and wait for Colby and then come on to the Arkansas with Jonas and Albert. He told her he had chosen the two mountain men because if anyone could see Farr through they could. He also told her why he had to get Miss Woodbury to Belle Point as quickly as possible. “I’d sure as hell hate to get there and find Will has been transferred. I figure to get to Belle Point, then double back and meet Farr somewhere near Davidsonville. That’s a settlement in the northeast corner of the Arkansas Territory. It means I’ll have to travel fast and light.”

“Why tell me?”

“Because I want you to come with me.”

Amy was stunned for a moment. When she spoke, her teeth chattered. “Why?”

“Will had counted on Miss Woodbury’s aunt traveling with her. It won’t look good for her to arrive at the fort in the company of two men.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” Amy stood and moved away from him. “I’ll not be a nursemaid to that empty-headed little snob! Take her to her Willy yourself. The sooner she’s gone the better I’ll like it.” The hurt that followed that first little surge of hope gave her voice a distant, chilly quality.

“I’m not asking you to nursemaid her. I’m asking you to go with us for appearance’s sake. I spoke to Farr and he said it would be your decision.”

For appearance’s sake.
The words were a blow to her pride.

“I told you, I’m not going.”

“Think about it before you decide.”

“I don’t have to think about it. I don’t like her.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

Amy didn’t answer. She turned her back to him and folded her arms across her chest. She was shaken by Rain’s request and desperately hoped that he didn’t know it. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff and if she moved she would topple into oblivion. Her head felt tight, her eyes smarted, and for the first time in her life she wanted to crawl off into a hole and cry.

Rain’s hands fastened on to her shoulders. She tried to shrug them away, but they tightened and drew her back against him. His breath was a warm caress on her ear.

“You used to . . . like me a little. Have I changed so much, Amy? We used to be able to talk to each other.”

“I talked. You didn’t say much.”

“I was shy and trying to find myself.” His voice was a mere whisper against her ear.

“A lot of time has gone by. We’ve . . . both changed.” Her voice had raw feeling in it and she drew in her lower lip to stop its quivering.

“I still see traces of the old Amy.”

“You . . . said that in the barn that day.”

“I never say things I don’t mean.”

He turned her around to face him. She felt his eyes probe fiercely all the way down to her legs that were suddenly cold and shaking.

“I’ll not urge you to come with us, if you’re dead set against it, but I wish you would.”

They stood looking at each other. An owl hooted in a tree down by the river and a squirrel stirred restlessly in the new nest she had built to raise her family. Sounds of muted laughter came from the fire beside the woodpile. It suddenly occurred to Amy that she had never before heard Rain Tallman ask anything of another person—not even Farr.

“Rain . . .” Her hands came up and grasped his elbows. “I wouldn’t make a good companion for someone like Miss Woodbury. She and I are as different as daylight and dark.”

“I know that. You need only to be civil to her, that’s all. You and McCourtney would take turns driving the wagon. It’s light and we’ll move fast.”

“But . . . Farr will need me.”

“I need you more.” His voice came quietly out of the darkness.

“Don’t wheedle me, Rain.”

“I won’t ask you again.”

Amy stood with her head bowed and her eyes closed. Gradually, Rain’s hands on her shoulders pulled her closer until her forehead rested against his shoulder. She rolled her head back and forth.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Are you afraid to go? I can’t tell you it won’t be a dangerous trip. It’s a rough country, even rougher and more uncivilized than it was here when you and Libby first came. But if I didn’t think I could keep you reasonably safe, I’d not take you.”

“Uncle Juicy taught me to take care of myself.”

“We had the same teacher. Remember?”

Amy didn’t know when his hands slid from her shoulders and down her back to cross and splay over her rib cage. It seemed so natural to be standing there close to him, enfolded in his arms, leaning on his strength. This was Rain, her beloved Rain. Her hands moved, her arms went around him and she hugged his great, hard body to her. She felt the gentle pull of his beard when he bent his head and pressed his cheek to hers, heard the thump of his heartbeat, smelled the familiar smell of his buckskin shirt. This was
home.
It was like she imagined heaven would be. She wished with all her heart that she could stop time and stay there with him forever.

“I’ll come with you, Rain.”

His arms tightened around her until she was pressed into every curve of his body.

“I’m glad.” His voice rasped roughly and his warm breath tickled her ear. “I want to leave at first light the day after tomorrow.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“Do you think we know each other well enough to share a kiss?” He spoke against her ear.

“Do you?”

He chuckled softly, lifted his head and looked into her eyes.

“Amy, Amy! I knew you when your mouth and eyes were too big for your face and you talked all the time.” His hand caressed her back and then moved up to the nape of her neck beneath the long rope of hair.

“You didn’t like me.”

“I was scared to death of you. You were the first white girl I knew, the first girl I kissed.”

“I’ve not kissed any man but you.”

“Am I the only one you cornered in the barn?” he teased.

“You cornered me last time.”

“Yeah, I did. Kiss me again.”

His voice drawled those unreal words and she lifted her hands to his hair, wound her fingers into it, and gave a slow tug. And then, with a wonderful feeling of freedom, she trailed her hands down his cheekbones, feeling the drag of new beard against her palms, and brought her fingertips lingeringly across his mouth to trace his firm lips. Then she pulled his head down toward her uplifted face and parted lips.

Rain set his mouth against hers. At first the kiss was gentle, sweet, hesitant, as if waiting for an invitation to deepen it. Amy’s mind fed on the new sensations created by the feel of his body against hers, his firm but gentle lips, open and exploring and caressing. Her lips met his with a hunger equal to the hunger that heated her blood, and with a craving from some unknown thing that was her soul.

He made the world spin.

When he deepened the kiss with mounting urgency, she welcomed the feel of his teeth, his tongue, the fresh taste of his mouth, the rough drag of the whiskers on his cheeks, and even the hardness of his nose lying beside hers. Her fingers caressed his ears and tugged gently at the hair at the nape of his neck. A wild crescendo rose within her and she knew that if he truly made love to her, if she became one with his rock-hard body, the world would stand still.

His lips softened, caressed and clung with a leisurely sweetness that held still the very moments of time. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. He was breathing hard. Puffs of warm breath touched her wet lips.

“That was a lot better than that first one in the barn.” His lips touched her nose lightly. “Don’t say anything,” he cautioned softly. “Don’t say anything at all.”

With his arm behind her and his hand on her waist, they walked back to the house.

*   *   *

Rain stretched out on his bunk and listened to the sounds of the house creaking and the branches of the oak tree scraping the roof. Now that it was settled that Amy would go with them, he was filled with a quiet unrest. Not often did he question his decisions as he did now. He knew how Farr had felt that day by the wagon when he had suddenly gripped the wheel and said that at times he thought he was out of his mind for even considering taking his family into the unsettled land.

If anything happened to Libby
. . . he had said, and Rain had seen the fear that entered his eyes.

Things happen, Rain thought. Things no one can control. Accidents, Indian trouble, renegades, river crossings . . . He flopped over on his side. He realized that suddenly Amy had become very dear to him. If anything happened to her on this trip, would he be able to endure the pain? The thought of losing her caused fear to flood over him like an icy wave.

After long moments of staring into the darkness he began to speculate on how it would be to be with Amy day and night, to have her look at him with love as Libby looked at Farr. He had not known love since his mother died. John Spotted Elk had cared for him. Juicy, Farr and Colby Carroll had liked him. But love such as Libby and Farr had for each other was a rare, wonderful and illusive thing. Did he dare hope it could be his?

A warmth flowed through him as he thought of the way Amy’s soft body had fit against his, the way her lips clung, her arms hugged him to her. Never had he felt so close to anyone. It was as if, for that short time, they were a part of each other. He hadn’t wanted it to end, or for words to shatter the sweetness they had shared.

He forced himself to think of practical things. He would have to set Gavin McCourtney right about Amy. If Gavin thought she was fair game he would soon find out how wrong he was. Rain thought for a moment of leaving him to travel with Farr and asking one of the long hunters to come with him. After careful deliberation he decided against it. Albert and Jonas had been together too long and knew each other’s ways too well to break up the team. It would be best to leave them with Farr.