Judith E. French (15 page)

“And if it’s bad?” Cailin asked.

“We’ll learn the truth of that soon enough.”

M
oonfeather’s visit troubled Cailin so that she took only a little pleasure in the lighting of the first fire in the cabin and in moving the furniture into place. Supper was roast venison and trout, supplemented with fresh greens, oatcakes, and applesauce made from dried apples packed in from Annapolis.

Sterling and Cailin sat together at the table enjoying a late cup of tea after Isaac and the others had climbed the ladder to the loft to sleep. Sterling filled a long-stemmed pipe with Maryland-grown tobacco and puffed at it thoughtfully.

“Why don’t the Shawnee want you to build a plantation here?” she asked him, voicing the question that had bothered her all afternoon.

“We’re on the edge of prime hunting ground. If I build here, they’re afraid other settlers will come and push them off their lands.”

“Will they?”

He watched the smoke curl upward from the bowl of his pipe. “Yes.”

“Then we’re hurting the Indians by what we’re doing.”

“There’s no stopping settlement, Cailin. This summer or next, cabins will start springing up along the river. If we’re not here to establish our claim, squatters will try to move in on my land. Cheap acreage is hard to find along the bay. They keep coming from England, Ireland, and Scotland. Most are poor men determined to cultivate a plot of their own—they’ve made great sacrifices to come to the Colonies, and they won’t be denied land.”

“But the Shawnee will blame you along with the others—even though you have a legal deed?”

“Yes, they will. They don’t look at land ownership the way we do. They think the earth belongs to God. Men and women just have the use of it,”

“Will they go on the warpath?”

“I hope not.” He laid down his pipe. “I doubt it. Moonfeather will talk hard for peace. But still ... there’s a thing I need for you to see.” He motioned her to come to the fireplace. “Just listen to me. Don’t argue. What I have to show you may save your life someday.”

Puzzled, she followed him to the hearth.

“The stone is warm. Don’t burn yourself,” he cautioned. “Look up the chimney and to the left.”

She did as he instructed and saw what looked like narrow steps of rock jutting out of the back corner of the fireplace. “I still don’t—”

“Higher.”

Shoulder high, too high for anyone standing in the great room to see, was a ledge set into the side of the chimney. “It’s a priest’s hole,” she said. “What in God’s name—”

“It’s for you,” he said. “You and our children. There’s room for you to hide. We purposely made the chimney wide enough to hold a hidden compartment. If the fire’s burning when you need to climb up, it will get warm enough, but you shouldn’t be hurt. Don’t tell a soul about it. No one knows about this but Isaac and me.”

She ignored the part about the children. Having a baby was the last thing she wanted now. A babe would tie her to Sterling forever. And she couldn’t give him forever ... no matter how she might want it. “Why would I want to hide in a fireplace?”

“Keep your voice down. Remember, there’s only a single layer of floorboards above us. Someone could be awake in the loft. The hiding hole’s useless if anyone else learns the secret.”

“Who am I supposed to hide from?”

“It’s insurance, in case the plantation is ever attacked.”

“You think the Shawnee are going to attack us?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think that. I wouldn’t have brought you out here if I didn’t believe my mother’s Indian blood would protect us from the Delaware and the Shawnee. But there are always men outside the law. White or red, they’re no different from raiders in Scotland. Forrest warned me that deserters from the military burned a farm on the Eastern Shore. They murdered a man and his wife and stole the livestock and the slaves. We’re isolated here. We don’t have to worry about pirates like the plantations on the bay. But there aren’t any neighbors to call on for help. I want you to have a way to survive if anything bad happens.”

“And you? Will ye be hiding there too?”

His jawline tightened. “If I’m here, I’ll be fighting or dead. But if there is trouble, I could be off hunting or cutting trees. I won’t always be within earshot.” He pulled her back away from the flames. “I’m not trying to frighten you,” he said gruffly. “But I’ve seen too much violence to—”

“As if I have not seen my share?” She thought a moment. “I’ll want a big dog for protection.”

He nodded in agreement. “I’ve already put in a bid for two of Forrest’s mastiff pups once they’re weaned. You never said, but I had hoped you liked dogs.”

“Aye, I favor them. We had a sheepdog at home that was as smart as most men. I sent him with Corey.” For an instant, the child’s tearstained face formed in her mind. She pushed it away and looked back at Sterling. His expression was grim.

“I should have warned you what you were coming to. If you’re afraid to stay here—”

“Mary and Joseph!” she exclaimed. “Wolves walk into our camp. Indians pop up out of nowhere and tell us that the river is going to turn to blood. Then ye show me this hole in the chimney and tell me to hide when the beasties come. How could a sensible woman not be afraid—will ye tell me that?”

Clouds swirled in the depths of his dark eyes. “Do you want to go back to the bay country—to Annapolis? I’ll not put your life in danger unless you—”

“Nay.” She gripped the warm, solid flesh of his hand, marveling at the thrill that passed through her. What was there about this Sassenach that made her forget common sense and loyalty to her family and country? A body would think he was the only man alive, she scoffed to herself.

“I want you here, Cailin,” he admitted, “but—”

“No more of that,” she said, fighting the desire to stroke his clean-shaved cheek. Sterling needed to shave only twice a week, but he never let stubble show on his face. She liked that.

She stepped closer and put her arms around his neck. “After all the rocks I’ve carried for ye ... after all the work we’ve put into this house, do ye think I’ll cut and run?” she asked him huskily. “Two years I’ve promised ye, and two years you’ll have. I’m no coward, I vow.”

“I never thought you were.” He sat down in the chair and pulled her into his lap. “I love you.” He leaned down to kiss her tenderly on the mouth. “I want to keep you safe,” he added after the next kiss. He rubbed the back of her neck with strong fingers ... slow, provocative motions that made her go all giddy inside.

“Sterling. We shouldn’t,” she whispered, struggling only a little. The heat of his callused palm felt marvelous on her sore muscles, and she didn’t want him to stop. “One of the laborers might come down to ...”

He brushed her lower lip with the tip of his tongue, and even her token protests ceased. She put her arms around his neck and parted her lips eagerly when he kissed her again. His tongue touched hers, and she gasped at the sensation.

It was suddenly hard to breathe.

She clung to him, letting him fill her mouth with his tongue, taking sensual pleasure in the taste and scent of him. And with each kiss, she forgot more and more of where they were and that they might be interrupted by one of the workmen coming downstairs to answer a call of nature.

He slipped a seeking hand under her petticoats and caressed her thigh above her stocking. She sighed and then pulled loose the leather thong that tied his queue in place as he nestled his face in her bosom. She loved to touch his hair. “Ye should have been born a lass, with such lovely hair,” she teased. The strands slipped through her fingers, as soft as black velvet.

“I think not,” he said. “We’d make an odd pair.”

She laughed. “I didna mean that ye were womanly, although ye do have nice legs. I’d like to see ye in a kilt.”

“I wore a loincloth until I was fourteen,” he said. “That’s as close as I intend to get to wearing a skirt.”

“A plaid is hardly a skirt,” she admonished him.

“You’re not drawing me into a battle tonight,” he said, raising his head and kissing the tip of her nose.

“You’re insatiable,” she replied, but she couldn’t keep the laughter from her voice. And she couldn’t keep her pulse from racing. Cuddled against him, she felt as giddy as a new bride.

“I admit it,” he said with a devilish wink. “I can’t get enough of you. When I saw you washing your hair in the river today, I wanted to strip off my clothes and join you.” He nibbled on her earlobe. “Mmm,” he murmured. “It’s not too late to go for that swim.”

“Swimming? In the dark—with wolves and wild Indians?” She pursed her lips. “You’re mad—even for an Englishman.”

He laughed again, a deep rumbling sound of contentment that made her heart leap. He kissed her throat, then began to undo the lacing on her bodice. “Why must you women wrap yourselves in such a tangle of clothing? It’s enough to drive a man out of his mind.”

Above, in the laborers’ bedchamber, a board creaked, and someone coughed.

Cailin stiffened and glanced up. “Sterling, someone’s awake.”

“They’re sound asleep.”

“If they should come down, what would they think?”

“They won’t come down.”

“But ...”

“Shhh.” He sighed as he covered her hand with his. “See what you’ve done to me?” He pressed her fingers against his straining garment. His shaft throbbed hot against her flesh.

“Lecher,” she accused. But the tremor in her voice betrayed her own desire. “Be that all ye think of?”

“No ... not all.” He whispered a scandalous suggestion into her ear, and her eyes widened with astonishment.

“For shame,” she whispered. “At least let us get into bed.” The thought that someone might come down and catch them in intimate circumstances was exciting, but also disturbing. She didn’t really want Joe to see her with her skirts up to her thighs and her bodice all undone. At least she hoped she didn’t.

Sterling kissed the top of her exposed breast. “I want you near the firelight, so I can see your face when I enter you ... when I’m deep inside you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Each time he kissed her, she flushed with inner heat. Already, moistness pooled between her thighs. She wanted him ... wanted his hands on her ... wanted him to fill her with his hard, thrusting shaft.

He loosened the top of her stays and freed one breast from the linen and whalebone garment. She drew her breath in sharply as his wet tongue flicked over her tingling nipple.

She moaned softly, imagining what was to come.

He encircled the swollen nub with slow, sweet kisses, then slowly drew her nipple between his lips and sucked gently.

Her nails dug into his shoulders as waves of sweet sensation flooded her veins, washing through every inch of her body ... intensifying the molten heat at her core.

“Sterling,” she gasped. “Take me to bed. I—”

Another bout of coughing echoed from the chamber overhead. Sterling swore softly as she stiffened in his arms and covered her breast with her hand.

“I can’t,” she said.

He groaned. “Cailin, please.”

“I’m afraid they will—”

“Shhh, love.” He kissed her neck and her ear, but the spell was broken.

“Not here,” she said.

. “Where, then?”

She pulled her gown up over her breast and stood up. “I want ye too,” she admitted.

He rose to his feet. “See what you’ve done to me,” he said. He glanced down at his breeches. “I can hardly walk in this state.”

“I’ll come outside with ye if ye want,” she suggested boldly.

“Will you swim with me in the river?”

“Aye, I will.”

He laughed and grabbed her around the waist, lifting her high and turning around. “I’m mad for you, woman. I have no intention of letting you go—not in two years ... not in two lifetimes.”

“Put me down,” she protested weakly. In truth, her knees were like jelly and she wasn’t sure they would hold her long enough to walk the length of the room. She wanted to tear off his shirt and touch his bare chest. She wanted to savor the hard ridges of his body, to taste the salt of his skin.

Still laughing, he threw her over his shoulder and carried her out the door into the cool May night.

“I said put me down,” she whispered.

Sounds of frogs and insects came from the forest and river. There wasn’t a breath of wind, and if the temperature was lower than that inside the cabin, it wasn’t enough to make her uncomfortable in her state of undress.

Sterling sat her feet lightly on the ground a hundred paces from the house. “Look at that sky,” he said, pointing up with one hand while the other arm held her against him. “See that moon.”

Cailin looked up in wonder. The pale shimmering disk was larger than she’d ever seen it, so close that she almost felt she could reach up and touch it.

“They call that a Shawnee moon,” he said. “It makes the forest trails as bright as day. When the moon glows like that in the heavens, the Shawnee travel by night. They swoop down on their enemies and capture fair maidens.” His rich voice had taken on a teasing note, and she joined his game.

“And will one of these Shawnee warriors carry me off tonight, do ye think?” she asked innocently. She wasn’t looking at the moon; she was looking at him.

He laughed. “That might be arranged.” He let his hand slide down her shoulder and close around her fingers. “Come with me,” he ordered.

Eagerly, she followed him across the open clearing to the river, and then downstream, along the deer trail that followed the bank. The surface of the river winked with the reflection of the brilliant moon; the stars glowed with the heat of a thousand candles. Beneath her feet, the moss was as soft as any carpet, and the air smelled of pine, and cedar, and wildflowers.

“This must be a taste of heaven,” she murmured. They had spent many nights here by the river, but always, she’d remained near the fire. Now that the wilderness night had enveloped her, she was enchanted by it—nay, not enchanted, intoxicated.