Red Bird's Song (29 page)

A ragged sob disrupted further speech.

"Don't weep,” he pleaded. “I regret my words."

"I can't—stop.” All-consuming misery accounted for her weepy state more than anything he'd said.

Upraised voices from up ahead broke through his efforts to console her. She tensed, fearing some new danger. “What's happening?"

"Muga says Outhowwa's party is near. He sees campfires."

Her relief at this announcement brought the calm that had eluded him. But what about Rob?

Flames from the nearby campfire bathed Charity's chilled body like a balm as the rain beat down beyond the broad half-cave carved into the earth and stone along the river bluff. Some of Outhowwa's party had gone on to the village, but a hearty assembly sat around the main fire pit, while she lay beside the cozy blaze at the other end like a rabbit tucked in its burrow. If her stomach would allow her respite, she'd do more than just drift beneath the surface of consciousness.

"Drink this."

She roused at Wicomechee's coming, but it seemed more effort than it was worth to sit up. He lifted her against him and she sipped the ginseng, praying the tea would aid, not offend her volatile condition.

"Tonight we eat corn mush and the rest of the bacon. None want to hunt when they can cook from supplies,” he said.

She made a face. “I'd rather have roast pheasant and new-made bread."

Emma spoke up. “Wouldn't we all?"

Colin chuckled. “How about a plump stewed chicken, meat pastries, and apples dumplings? And don't forget the brandy."

A memory surfaced in Charity's weary mind. “It was all there, in the grand house in my dream."

"That's why we call them dreams, darling."

Wicomechee nuzzled her cheek. “Tomorrow, I kill you a fat rabbit to cook. We will all eat well.” He turned his head toward Colin. “Have you finished tending the horses?"

"Not yet. I left Muga hard at it."

"Leave Posetha with the women. I will help you."

"And boast to Outhowwa about the giant you felled,” Colin teased. Wicomechee smiled faintly, and Colin stood, bending his head beneath the low stone. “I'll just bring the women some food first."

Emma laid the bundled baby across her lap. “What about James and Lily?"

"They're telling anyone who will listen of our adventures and eating scraps the men toss them. Outhowwa is waiting to hear more of your battle with the trappers,
NiSawsawh
."

"We will speak."

"How badly wounded was Chaka?” Charity asked, surprised that she cared.

"He gave his leg quite a whack while chopping wood—feels foolish about it, but he's mending.” Colin bent and pressed a kiss to Emma's fingertips, then walked off into the smoky shadows beyond their circle of light.

Wicomechee slid from beside Charity. “When I return, I wish to find you have eaten.” He stooped under the rock shelter. “I leave Red Bird in your care,” he said to Emma.

Charity flopped back down the instant he vanished. “Oh no, I expect some cooperation from you, my girl,” Emma chided.

"Good heavens. You sound just like your mother."

"Suppose I do. Here comes Colin with food, up with you now."

He handed Emma two bowls. “Who are you ordering about?"

"Charity. Wicomechee left me in charge."

"I didn't realize you had the makings of a colonel."

Charity dragged back up. “She gets it from Aunt Mary."

"I can readily envision Mary McLeod marching everyone at attention. Remember, my dearest, the best officers have a streak of mercy."

"I'll be firm, but gentle,” Emma agreed.

"I can't imagine you otherwise,” he smiled, and turned away, ducking beneath the stone.

Emma's tender gaze followed him into the foggy drizzle. “God forgive me, I love that man more than my life."

"I trust God will pardon us both.” Anything else Charity might have said remained unspoken. Rob Buchanan was making his way toward their campfire. Her queasy stomach knotted and she gripped Emma's arm. “Look who's coming."

Emma muttered, “Just what we need right now."

Charity watched like hunted prey as Rob nodded at Emma, and slid into the spot Wicomechee had left empty. He exuded a passionate intensity she didn't feel equal to.

"It's been ages since I last saw you, Charity. I feared for your life."

"I'm sorry you suffered. Our party fell behind, took us days to catch back up."

His eyes drank her in. “What's wrong? Are you ill?"

She touched her forehead. “I was injured here,” she said, hoping this would content him. “I suffer weakness."

"That explains your arrival in Wicomechee's arms."

"He cares well for me."

Rob's mouth tightened. “I'd hardly expect him to leave his wife lying along a trail. I suppose you are by now?"

She looked away from his displeasure as though from a striking snake, and watched the misting rain. “Yes."

"Have you utterly forgotten who he is, what he is?"

"When Mechee holds me, I think only of his love."

"I could do the same if I had the chance,” Rob argued.

"It's not that simple. I can't just forget one husband and take another."

"In time I could persuade you to think differently."

"Mechee's not going to let you try."

"He can hardly oppose an army."

She almost choked at his blatant threat. “You don't know for certain that Colonel Bouquet will prevail."

"I'll bet he already has."

"Enough, Rob. I'll not have you upsetting her,” Emma scolded. “You aren't even supposed to be together anyway."

Charity eyed her usually mild cousin in surprise.

Even Rob seemed impressed by Emma's newfound authority. “Bold words for you, Ma'am."

"I shall be bolder still if you don't behave."

A faint smile eased the tension at his mouth. “I shall be a perfect gentleman. Pray continue with your meal."

"Charity can't possibly eat with you staring at her."

He raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture and averted his head. “Thank you, sir,” Emma said with chilly formality.

Charity forced down a small portion then set the bowl aside. “I'll finish it later, Emma."

"That's not enough to keep Lily going, let alone you."

"I'll be fortunate to keep this down.” Trying to ignore Rob, she wrapped in her blanket and lay down, but, like a disturbed spirit, there was no escaping his brooding presence.

He bent over her. “You're truly ill. From your injury?"

She was loath to answer. “Not only that."

Anger radiated from him. “Never mind. I can guess what ails you. Wicomechee's gotten you with child, hasn't he?"

She kept her eyes from his recrimination but made no denial.

"Works fast. The bastard."

She sucked in her breath as if Rob had driven his fist into her stomach, too breathless to immediately reply.

Not Emma. “I understand you're upset, but to speak so. ‘Tisn't fit language for Christians."

"Let me remind you good
Christians
that this marriage isn't valid."

Charity got out, “In the eyes of God, it is."

"Perhaps. I'll not speak for the Almighty."

"Humble of you, I'm sure,” Emma said.

Rob ignored her sarcasm. “Their union has no validity in the eyes of the civilized world."

Emma cut him short. “We've heard more than enough."

"Not quite. The child she carries is a bastard as well."

At that rude utterance the tiny life within Charity took on a great deal more significance than she'd previously accorded it. Pushing up on one elbow, she stared Rob in his baleful eyes. “Don't you dare call my baby that horrid name!"

"Can't take the truth?"

"Whose truth?” Posetha demanded. “Not Shawnee truth."

Charity hadn't noticed him rise from the circle of warriors nearest them until he stood glaring down at Rob.

"Stay away from the wife of Wicomechee, Rob Buchanan."

Rob set his jaw in sullen lines as he eyed Posetha. “You wish more punishment?” the warrior invited.

"Please, Rob, do as he says,” Charity pleaded.

"Fine.” He scooted a short distance away.

Posetha touched her shoulder. “His words cannot harm you."

"'Tisn't only his words I fear."

"Have courage. I am near if you have need of me."

Through her blurred vision she watched Posetha return to his appreciative listeners and the tales he was regaling them with. Seeing Posetha distracted, the dogged young man inched his way nearer to her. “Rob, you mustn't,” she entreated him.

"Will you summon your guard dog or let me speak?"

"Careful, Rob,” Emma warned. “You will have Posetha back over here in a flash."

Rob regarded Charity with fierce yearning in his gaze. “I think of you all the time. Your face is always in my mind. I'll not give up until you're my wife."

"You still want me, knowing I carry Mechee's child?"

"This delicate state didn't deter a certain Englishman from taking the wife of another. Did it, Mrs. Estell?"

"That was entirely different,” Emma argued.

"How?"

She eyed him coldly. “I don't owe you an explanation."

"Afraid it won't hold up?"

"Who made you judge over us?"

"Your mother would gladly appoint me to make the pair of you see sense."

Emma thrust the sleeping baby at Charity and drew herself up like an enraged dog. “I am a grown woman. You'll not tell me what Mama would want.” Swinging her hand, she slapped Rob across the face with a resounding smack.

Charity's jaw dropped.

He fingered his reddened cheek in amazement. “We've known each other since childhood. You never struck anyone."

"About time I did, you pompous, overbearing—bastard!"

Charity sputtered, “Emma. You never ever swear."

"No, she does not,” Wicomechee agreed from the mist.

Colin took shape and dodged the stone ceiling. “Someone must have been extremely provoking."

Posetha pointed an accusing finger at Rob. “Outhowwa's captive distressed the wife of Wicomechee."

Wicomechee stalked just behind his brother.

"You did leave Emma in charge, did you not,
NiSawsawh
?” Waupee asked, a hard edge to his flippant remark.

The despised Long Knife must have a death wish. One he would gladly oblige. He was aware of Charity's stricken face, but stopped before Rob and fixed on him with the intensity of a panther ready to spring. “We will
speak
."

The Long Knife stood warily.

Waupee stayed Wicomechee's arm with his hand. “One moment, Emma called him out first. Will you fight him, darling, or shall I?"

Mary Elizabeth wailed. “Please be serious.” Emma lifted the baby and slipped a hand beneath her blanket to her bodice.

"Quite right, most awkward to fight while nursing an infant. Wouldn't you agree, Rob?” Waupee asked, that steel in his voice still underlying his light manner.

Rob shifted his eyes between them. “Who does that leave me to deal with Dickson, you or Wicomechee?"

"Both. You insulted both of us, did you not?” Wicomechee flung back.

The cocky Long Knife didn't even attempt an apology.

Emma nestled the infant beneath her wrap. “I'd rather fight him myself than see the two of you tear into him."

"With a baby at your breast?” Waupee inquired coolly. “Come along Rob, the three of us will have a little talk."

"Wait, Mechee, big brother."

Charity would interfere. She got shakily to her feet then staggered and clasped a hand to her head. “I feel so giddy.” With a moan, she swayed, sagging toward Rob.

Wicomechee looked on in outraged disbelief as Rob caught Charity and lifted her in his arms. “Poor girl."

Fire inflamed him. “Take your hands from my wife."

"Hold on, Wicomechee. She's swooned."

"This is your doing."

"Mine? I'm not the one who got her with child."

Only the dread he felt for Charity kept him from felling the Long Knife where he stood. “You cause her distress she has not the strength to bear. Can you not see her weakness?"

The indignation in Rob's eyes lessened and concern took its place. “Is it the child alone? She spoke of an injury."

Charity lay unmoving as Wicomechee took her from him and hugged his precious burden. “The injury almost claimed her life. Now she is ill with my child. I fear for her,” he admitted. “The journey is too hard."

Rob's solemn gaze followed Charity. “I didn't realize. She was always so strong, so fast."

The reminder pierced Wicomechee. “No more. She needs food, rest. Why can you not stay from her?"

"I've loved Charity for so long. And just when her guardian agreed to our marriage, you stole her away."

"She never wanted you, Rob Buchanan. When I first took her captive she told me she feared to wed you."

"I could have gotten her past that and won her love. I still could,” Rob said, longing in his face and voice.

"Can a heart be taken, like a horse? Even horses remember their masters. A man cannot force a woman's heart as he can her body."

"I know that,” Rob conceded. “All I'm saying is I could win Charity's love if I had the chance."

"Her heart is mine. She seeks my love in return. Not yours. When she wakes with fear, she holds to me, not to you. Her tears wet my shirt, not yours. When she is glad I hear her laughter. For me she sings.” Wicomechee smoothed her chilled cheek. “If this English colonel aids you in taking her from me, she will fly from you in death."

Horror touched his eyes. “Death? Surely not."

"She has done this once,” Posetha said. “When Wicomechee called to her, she returned to him."

Rob stared at him. “You mean to say Charity was dying and he summoned her back?"

"Already her spirit was lifting into the night sky."

Rob gave a low whistle. “I don't know what to say."

"How about, forgive me, Wicomechee. I've made an ass of myself?” Waupee said. “Include a promise never to trouble Charity again. Then maybe, just maybe, he will let you live."

Rob heaved a sigh and the knowledge that he had lost her forever shaped his expression. “I couldn't bear to cause her such grief I endangered her life. I give you my word, Wicomechee. I will trouble Charity no more."