Frontier Gift of Love (American Wilderness Series Romance Book 5) (10 page)

Bear had explained that Catherine’s late husband, murdered in front of her during her journey to Kentucky, willed 10,000 acres to Catherine. After falling in love with Sam and marrying him, the two selected a site for their home near Cumberland Falls, where they had honeymooned.

As she rode, Artis also remembered what Bear had told her about
Stephen and Jane. Soon after she married Sam, Catherine insisted on giving a thousand acres to Stephen so they could build a home before winter and start their cattle operation. Stephen had insisted he would repay them, in part by keeping Sam’s family supplied with beef.

Bear slowed his horse and pointed. “Stephen and Jane’s place is just down that road.”

“Are we goin’ to stop there before we go further?” she asked, turning Glasgow so she could face Bear.

“Nay, ‘twould delay us too long. Somethin’ tells me I need to get to Sam’s soon.” Bear’s expression darkened.

“I can tell ye’re worried.”

“Indeed. I will na rest easy until I can see that the three of them are well.”

Sensing his growing apprehension, Artis urged Glasgow to a faster gallop and Camel, who seemed to have caught his second wind, quickly matched the larger horse’s pace.

Chapter 8

Fort Logan, Kentucky, Monday, 19 December, 1799

“D
on’t forget to get extra sugar,” Stephen called after Jane. “You know I want
your
mincemeat pie for Christmas. No one makes one quite as good as yours. You can bring it with us to Sam and Catherine’s.”

Her shopping list in hand, Jane whirled around, smiling. “Indeed, with all the baking for Christmas, I’ll need plenty. And extra flour too.”

Stephen waited atop George while Martha climbed into the wagon seat vacated by her mother and took the reins of the horse team. When she turned ten, he’d allowed her to start driving the team as long as he or Jane were with her. That rule would remain in place until she turned fifteen or so. He’d not risk her safety.

Polly sat behind the wagon seat on two sacks of feed, with Samuel laying on a thick blanket next to her sound asleep.

At the mention of Christmas sweets, smiles had lit up the faces of both his daughters. That gave him an idea.

“Come on girls, let’s go find that baker. All of a sudden, I’m in the mood for a sweet roll,” Stephen said.

As he rode beside Martha toward the bakery located on the north side of Fort Logan, he ticked off all the items piled in the back of the wagon.
He didn’t want to forget anything. Trips to shop here at the fort were few and far between, especially in the winter. They’d traveled to the fort Sunday afternoon and spent the night here so that they could get an early start on their shopping first thing that morning.

It was only mid-morning and his purchases already included feed, barrels, horseshoes, square nails, a keg of salt, powder and ball, and a new horse blanket for his stallion George. They also had all just come from the dressmaker and tailor’s shops where Stephen purchased a gorgeous lace-trimmed green gown with embroidered stomacher for Jane and new red dresses for the girls to wear on Christmas. For himself, he bought a simple cravat, a new gray waistcoat, and black shirt and leather breeches. They’d also visited the shoemaker and bought new boots for the girls. He wanted them to all look stylish and well-dressed for the holidays and the big horse race.

In addition to the gifts, sugar, and flour, Jane planned to buy candlewicks, cornmeal, a barrel of fat, and fabric and ribbons for new dresses for the girls. The two grew so fast, they seemed to outgrow their dresses before Jane could get another one made for each of them.

He intended to keep the girls distracted for at least an hour while Jane shopped for both their presents and gifts for his nephew, Little John, and his niece, Nicole, William and Kelly’s daughter. The general store kept a good selection of toys on hand to sell to parents living at the fort and to families of the surrounding area.

“Martha, keep the team rolling across the enclosure at a slow pace. We don’t want to wake Samuel. You know how cranky he gets if his nap is interrupted,” Stephen told his daughter.

“I know,” Martha said rolling her eyes. “But I’m so hungry.”

“Me too,” Polly echoed.

“Me three,” Stephen said. His meager and cold breakfast disappeared long ago, leaving his stomach empty and growling. “Nevertheless, go slow.” Stephen was trying to kill a little time as well as let Samuel continue his nap.

He waved to the few men with whom he was acquainted as he passed them by, but there were many people he didn’t recognize. The fort’s population appeared to have doubled since their last visit here. Men and their families, wagons, horses, and mules crowded into every spare spot within the enclosure. And many others camped in wagons or tents outside the fort’s palisade made of sturdy logs.

When they arrived at the bakery, Stephen dismounted, tied George to the back of the wagon, and then held his arms up to help first Martha and then Polly down. Polly fell into his outstretched arms and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you, father!”

Stephen smiled, kissed her cheek, and said, “And I love you, daughter!"

Then he put her down with a bounce and reached in for Samuel, trying his best not to wake his son.

“The air smells like cinnamon,” Polly said, taking a deep breath.

“And frosting,” Martha said. “I want something with lots of icing.”

Both girls bobbled on their toes and swung their arms excitedly as they waited for him.

Stephen nestled Samuel over his arm and shoulder. When he looked up, he saw Colonel Logan hurrying across the enclosure, headed directly for him.

“You two go on inside and pick out one treat each. And something for your mother and Samuel too. I’ll be in shortly,” he told them. “And don’t touch anything unless the owner tells you to.”

“Stephen Wyllie!” the Colonel called out. “I was hoping I’d see you or your brother Sam soon.”

“Hello, Colonel,” Stephen said, extending his free hand in greeting to the tall imposing leader.

Concern filled Logan’s pale blue eyes. “I need to speak with you.”

“Certainly. Is something wrong?”

“Maybe. Three men came by the fort yesterday. I didn’t like the looks of them from the beginning. They said they were looking for Sam and wanted directions to his place. When I asked them why they needed to speak with the Captain, a man named Dixon said they were friends of your brother. They’d traveled here all the way from New Hampshire to speak to him about selling his land back home. Against my better judgment, I gave them directions to Sam’s place.”

“Hmph,” Stephen snorted. Sam would never sell that land. The mountain held the bodies of their parents and only sister after an enormous mountain slide covered their entire childhood home. People in the area soon took to calling it Wyllie Mountain. Sam, as the oldest son, inherited the property. However, he never did anything with it, choosing to let the land be a serene resting place for their lost family members. “I’m sure they came all this way for nothing, but why is that cause for concern?”

“Because men don’t travel a thousand miles just to buy a piece of land. There must be another reason.”

“Indeed,” Stephen agreed. “What reason did they give?”

“That they wanted to buy the mountain to quarry stone.”

“Now that last part does sound suspicious. Sam’s mountain is mostly stone, but there’s rock to quarry all over the state. He would have told them no flat out. The mountain holds special significance to our family. He’d never sell it and he would have told them so in no uncertain terms.”

“Knowing the Captain, I’d have to agree. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who would be indecisive or hesitate to say what he thinks.”

“True enough.” Stephen let out a long sigh. This was all vaguely disturbing. “Why would they come all this way? They could have sent a letter expressing their interest in acquiring the site.”

“That’s what I wondered,” the Colonel agreed. “It’s a long way just to buy a piece of property.”

Stephen shifted Samuel to his other side, letting the boy’s head rest on his shoulder. His son grew heavier by the day. “Colonel, you met these
men. Do you think I should go to Sam’s right away to be sure all is well?”

“Well,” the Colonel rubbed the back of his neck as he considered Stephen’s question. “After many years in the military and politics, I’ve become a decent judge of character. And something about those men bothers me all the way to the soles of my boots.”

“Then I’ll go.”

“Your family is welcome to stay here if need be. I’ll find quarters for them.”

“No, we were going to Sam’s anyway in a few days for a Christmas visit. I’ll just move our visit up. We’ll leave for home now, then leave for Sam’s first thing in the morning. With the girls, I don’t want to spend the night out in the open.”

“Do you want me to send a couple of my militia along with you?”

“No. Jane and I both have our rifles and pistols with us. She’s an excellent shot, by the way. And Sam has four hired hands at his farm,” Stephen answered. “Tell me what these men look like and their names.”

As the Colonel finished answering, the door to the bakery opened and Martha poked her head out. “Father, we made our choices. Can you come pay for them please?”

“I’ll be right there,” he answered. “Thank you Colonel. I appreciate your concern for my family.”

“You and your brothers are all fine men. We need more like you here in the wilderness. Will Bear be going to Sam’s for Christmas too?”

“Indeed. And William and his family as well.”

“It sounds like you’ll have a joyous holiday. I hope I get a chance to see Bear again and ask him about the Governor’s meeting I sent him to in Boonesborough.”

“I’m sure Bear will want to thank you whole-heartedly. Sending him there was fortuitous—he met his new wife Artis in Boonesborough. He’s bringing her to meet all of us.”

The Colonel laughed and slapped a hand against his long leg. “When he was here last, Bear told me he was setting out to find a bride. By God he did it!”

“I think it actually
was
the good Lord’s doing. Bear wrote us that she’s from Scotland too and he seems exceedingly happy,” Stephen said.

“I’ll look forward to meeting her. I’m anxious to meet William as well. His excellent reputation as sheriff of Boonesborough precedes him.”

“Will you be at the Twelfth Day horse race?” Stephen asked.

“No, my duties here prevent my attending.”

“I plan to enter my stallion in the race. I’m sure Bear and William will come along to cheer me on. Sam may not be able to come if Catherine has not yet delivered.”

“You’re entering this big black?” The Colonel ran a hand over George’s hip.

“Yes, that’s George.” Stephen couldn’t help smiling proudly.

“He’s a handsome fellow. Exceptional. Perhaps I’ll bring a mare to you for breeding.”

“Father!” Polly called out impatiently, her brows and lips pinched together.

“I see you’re urgently needed elsewhere,” the Colonel said, smiling. Then his face turned serious. “Stephen, I hope I’m wrong about those men.”

“I hope you are too.”

Chapter 9

Boonesborough, Monday, 19 December, 1799

C
arrying his bag of medicines and surgeon’s instruments, Rory McGuffin blew out the oil lamp and locked the door to Boonesborough’s apothecary, glad to see the day finally end.

Rory never thought he would practice medicine again, but when Doc McDowell asked for his help, he simply couldn’t refuse. He enjoyed helping people—it was why he’d become a doctor in the first place. He spent a few weeks with McDowell, brushing up on the latest theories and techniques, but soon learned his excellent medical education was still well-founded.

In truth, it felt good to be needed and use the skills that took him years to acquire. Just today, among other things, he’d pulled an abscessed tooth, lanced a boil, treated a snakebite, and set a little boy’s broken wrist. What would these people have done if he hadn’t agreed to cover for the town’s doctor every other week while McDowell treated his patients in Lexington. They surely would have all suffered needlessly.

He’d set those skills aside for an extremely long time—ever since the last patient he lost on the battlefield—his brother’s son. Only when Bear’s wife Artis would have died if he hadn’t helped her did he finally reveal to everyone that he served as a surgeon during the Revolution. For more years than he wanted to remember, he’d treated every conceivable battle wound
and illness of the soldiers and camp followers.

After the war, never wanting to see one of his patients die again, Rory became a trapper, living with his wife and daughter in a modest cabin on Shenandoah Mountain. He’d enjoyed the solitude of trapping, but then Kelly’s mother died while he was on one of his hunting trips. Another tragic death on his hands. If only he had been there. The loss of his beloved wife was nearly the end of him as he sought to ease his pain with strong liquor. It was Kelly who had suffered the most though. He had given up on life and on Kelly when she needed him the most.

But later, when he came close to losing Kelly, he begged her forgiveness. Kelly gave it, willingly and lovingly. And now it seemed as though his heart may have finally healed enough to put his skills to good use again.

“Good evening Dr. McGuffin,” Lucky McGintey called from atop his horse. “Calling it a day?” The aging longhunter eased his mount, and the packhorse he led, loaded with today’s kills, closer to the apothecary. The man was dressed in buckskins and tall moccasins, much like Sam always was. His back and shoulders slumped, Lucky appeared tired. Despite his age, he continued to hunt every single day, supplying fresh meat for the settlement.

“Indeed, I am calling it a day,” he answered, rubbing the back of his neck. “This day has made me feel my age. Lately, I wake up feeling a month older instead of a day older.”

“I know exactly what you mean!” Lucky said cackling. “But here’s what I think. You’re only as old as your attitude, not your body. So I keep on smiling and keep putting my old foot in the stirrup. When God’s ready to take me home, I’ll go, but until then, I’m going to enjoy life if it kills me.”