The Wild Belle (3 page)

Michael jumped; Old Amos laughed his “tee hee” laugh. There was another shot followed by the sound of something falling to the ground, then another shot.

Michael watched in astonishment as a large, red rooster went running past him, feathers flying. Another shot was fired, making a small puff of dust fly up behind the rooster.

“Get your feather-covered hide off my damn porch, you Godforsaken varmint!” Michael heard a woman yell, followed by another gunshot. “You have this entire plantation and you don’t have to be poopin’ on my clean porch!”

“Made Miss Mandy mad again,” Old Amos observed, propping his back on one of the large oak trees just out of Mandy’s line of sight.

“Should we do something?” Michael asked still in shock that he was greeted with gunfire.

“Naw, she only has . . . ,” Old Amos furrowed his brow. “How many shots has she fired?”

“Five.”

“She has two more shots, and then it will be safe.”

“Safe? Is that woman mad?”

Old Amos stood up in a defensive stance. His tone was brisk as he defended his mistress. “Don’t go talking bad about Miss Mandy. That’s Mr. Ott’s wife.”

“I meant no disrespect, but she’s shooting at us.”

“Naw, just that rooster.” The older man nodded his head in the direction of the fleeing poultry. “She’s been doing that fer years. But don’t ya worry, Mr. Ott had me swap her lead balls out with hard packed rock salt after she shot him.”

Michael’s brows shot upward in horror. “She shot her husband?!” He was beginning to wonder if he should have just forgone this trip and stayed to help Eli figure out who the mystery woman was or better yet, have gone with Jacob to the pirate-infested waters near Kingstown. Anything was safer than this.

“Well, yeah, but it was an accident. He just happened to walk around the corner of the house as she was a shootin’.”

There was another shot at the now resting rooster. The poultry took off running again. The last shot sent several of his long red tail feathers flying off. Michael watched the plumage float gracefully to the ground. Old Amos stood straight again and walked around the house. Michael cautiously followed after the older man, fearful now of being shot. They walked around the side of the house and Michael peered cautiously at the veranda. The view was difficult because of the height of the porch. It was easily over Michael’s six-foot frame. As he tilted his head to peer onto the porch, he could see the woman’s back was turned away from them. He followed Old Amos up the set of stairs that led to the porch.

Michael studied the tall woman who was so angry. Her blond hair had been pulled up in a tight bun, but there were several wisps of hair protesting their restraint. The wind blew causing the stray strands to dance around, resembling the serpents covering Medusa’s head. The dark grey dress she wore hugged her narrow waist and the three-quarter length sleeves of her gown were accentuated with white lace at the elbows. There were six pistols lying at her feet and she had the seventh still-smoldering pistol in her left hand. The full skirt flared outward as she turned towards a noise at the door.

“Ott, you better get your ass out here or I’m goin’ to shoot you. That damn rooster you insisted on buyin’ has shi—”

“Miss Mandy,” Old Amos interrupted before the mistress could continue her profanity-filled tirade.

“What?!” she snapped, whipping around to give the older man a heated gaze. Her eyes then fixated on Michael. He watched as the woman’s expression changed in an instant from that of anger to slight embarrassment. She blinked rapidly and her hard, angry facial features melted away like snow on a hot summer’s day. Her dark green eyes began to lighten. “Oh, pardon me. Why, Amos, why didn’t you tell me we had guests.”

“Sorry, Miss Mandy, but he jest got here. This is Mr. Michael St. John, the man Mr. Ott was expectin’.”

“Oh!” Amanda exclaimed, her eyes growing wider at the recognition of the name. Color flooded her high cheekbones. “Just a moment and I will retrieve Ott for you.”

“Mandy, what are you doing all that hollering about? You planning on having the sheriff called on us again?” a man asked as he walked out the doorway. His eyes went straight to the stranger beside Old Amos.

“Ott, Mr. St. John from that shipping company is here—
early
,” Mandy said accentuating the word “early.” She plastered a smile on her face and gave her husband an owl-eyed look.

“Hmm?” Ott replied as he took in his wife’s comical expression.

“Mr. St. John is here,” Mandy repeated, as her eyes grew wider.

“Oh!” Ott replied. Turning, he extended his hand out to Michael. “Mr. St. John.”

Michael took the older man’s outstretched hand. “Please, Mr. Craycraft, call me Michael.”

“Very well. Call me Ott. And you have already met my wife Amanda.”

Michael smiled at Amanda and picked up her hand. He placed a kiss on her knuckles. “Mrs. Craycraft.” Amanda’s cheeks turned a brighter shade of red as she accepted his greeting.

“We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow afternoon, Michael,” Ott said, extending his arm toward the door, welcoming Michael to enter.

“My ship made excellent time. I actually arrived two days ago.”

Michael took a step towards the door and heard a commotion from the side of the house where he had just been. He watched as a boy came galloping around the corner on a gray horse. The boy lowered his body to the animal. The pair appeared to be one as they went sailing over a small bench. The horse galloped past the front porch. He watched as Amanda raced over to the railing and began yelling at the boy.

“Andi, you get your hide back here this instant! You promised you’d not leave this house!”

The boy did not stop, but spurred his steed faster. It one fluid movement the large gray horse and rider jumped the stone fence around the house. They did not stop, horse and rider, but kept going at their present pace.

“God forbid you should have any children!” Amanda yelled at the disappearing figure. She whipped back around and faced Michael. “Do you have any children, Mr. St. John?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Well, I have five. I’ll give them all to you, even the married one.”

“Mandy,” Ott scolded as he looked at his wife.

“I swear, Ott, your children will be the death of me.”

“They’re your children, too.”

“Only when they behave.”

“Do they ever? The only one who behaves is Alyssa and that’s because she’s like me. The others are your children. They act just like you.” Ott then turned towards Michael. “Follow me, Michael, I need a drink.”

Michael smiled. “After you.” Deep down Michael was glad Ott had offered him a drink for he had a feeling he was going to need one—and many more—in order to survive being with this family for the next month.

Chapter Four

Michael followed Ott into the large home. Entering the foyer, he couldn’t help but be in awe of the home’s architecture. The floors were a white marble. It had a central grand staircase that you could ascend from two sets of steps on the right or left. The steps joined in the center at a landing. In the center of the landing was another set of steps that led upstairs. The railings to the stairs had a wooden handrail that was mounted onto white iron braces, each in an ornate swirl design. Just above the stairs was a crystal chandelier. The drop-shaped crystals dangled down from the light fixture by gold chains. The ceilings were covered with white tiles, each imprinted with swirl designs. The walls were a shade of mint green with gold-trimmed crown molding.

Michael followed Ott to the left of the staircase into the study. It was just as elaborately decorated. The large room had bookshelves that were filled with books and running the entire length of the room’s right side. The walls were a dark wood and there was an ornately carved mahogany desk in front of the floor-length windows. The windows were all open, allowing for the cooling breeze to enter. To the left was a large family portrait. Michael watched as Ott walked to the liquor cabinet. He turned to study the portrait. He recognized the younger image of Ott and his wife. She was sitting, holding an infant, and Ott was standing behind her. There were two girls standing on each side of her. All four of the girls had the same blond hair as their mother. Michael walked closer to examine the portrait.

“My pride and joy,” Ott beamed, walking over to Michael and handing him a glass of brandy.

Michael took the beverage offered to him. “I take it these are your children?”

“Yes. Five girls.” Ott shook his head. “What did I ever do to be saddled with five daughters and no sons is beyond me. I wouldn’t wish that punishment upon any man.” Michael turned and could see the pride in this man’s eyes. “Now don’t get me wrong, I am proud of my girls, but sometimes there are just too many women in this house . . . if you get my meaning.”

Michael smiled and chuckled. “I have a sister of my own, so I know firsthand how temperamental women can be. But if you think five daughters are bad you should try a redheaded mother and sister. I bet they could make your crew seem calm.”

Ott laughed. “Don’t count on it, Michael. So, do you have a large family?”

“Depends on your perception of large. I have eight brothers and one sister, who just happens to be the youngest, along with two beautiful nieces.”

“Having a large family is wonderful. I was an only child. Sometimes I get a little jealous of the relationship my girls have with each other, and other times, it makes me thankful I was an only child,” Ott replied, recalling Andrea and Ashton’s fight this morning.

Ott looked at the tall man beside him. Michael was a handsome young man, that was for certain. He hoped his younger daughters could handle being in the same house with this man without falling for him. Michael was tall with broad shoulders and a slim waist. His eyes were a dark, midnight blue with long dark lashes. The top of his Greek nose had a small notch, indicating it had been broken many years ago. Ott watched as Michael placed his beverage to his lips. His waistcoat strained under the muscles of his upper arms. Ott had no doubt in his mind that this young muscular man could handle himself easily, when needed.

“You have a beautiful family,” Michael acknowledged, turning to face the man before him.

“Thank you. Now, you must be tired. I will have Sally ready your room for you. It will take a little while, but feel free to wait here in my study.”

“Thank you,” Michael answered. “But I must say, since Young Amos informed me about your crystal lake, it has intrigued me.”

Ott nodded his head. “I’ll have Joseph take you there. I would show you to it myself, but I have unfinished business that I need to attend to.”

“That’s quite all right. I know my early arrival was not expected. I am certain I can find it if you direct me to the location.”

“Very well,” Ott replied and walked over to the large window. He motioned for Michael to follow him. “Do you see that out cove of pecan trees?”

“Yes.”

“Go to the right of those. You will see a very large oak tree—you can’t miss it. It’s the largest tree on the plantation. When you see the oak, walk under its branches. There will be a brick-lined path behind the tree. Just follow that path, it will take you right to the lower lake.”

“Thank you. I shouldn’t be too long. Just need to freshen up a bit after my journey.”

“Take your time. I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow, so your early arrival has taken me off guard. I’ll inform Sally to get extra help to make sure your room is ready for you when you return.”

“No need to take your workers from their tasks. I’m in no hurry.”

“Very well.”

Ott escorted Michael through the house to the back entrance.

“Feel free to come back in this way.”

“Thank you.” Michael walked out of the home and followed the directions given to him by Ott. The large oak was easy to spot. Its massive branches spread out over thirty feet in all directions. The branches dipped low to the ground, begging passersby to perch upon them. Each branch was covered in clusters of Spanish moss. As he walked under the tree, Michael ran his hand along the rough bark. He noticed that the tree appeared to make a tunnel in the back. He headed towards the tunnel and noticed the brick path. The path extended into the thick brush several feet. Michael followed the path for several minutes until he saw a small bench and the small lake behind it.

The image of the lake looked like it had been taken out of a painting. The lake was small, one might consider it more of a large pond, but the waters were crystal clear. The lake was surrounded by a multitude of different colored wildflowers and encircled by smaller trees. There was enough sunlight peering through the overgrowth of trees to cast the reflection of the surrounding foliage onto the water. Behind the lake was another large live oak tree, its long branches dipping low, almost touching the water and then curving gently up, rising, reaching for the heavens. The Spanish moss clung to the low-hanging branches making it appear angelic, as though you were watching an angel spread its wings just before flight. He could imagine children jumping off the low tree branches into the cool refreshing water. A faint rumble could be heard and he knew the noise was from the waterfall that Young Amos had told him about.

Michael quickly undressed, laying his clothing on the stone bench beside the lake. He entered the water and sucked in his breath at the coolness of the water. As hot as the climate was in the south, he never would have imagined that the water would be this cold. After several minutes his body adjusted to the refreshing water, and he swam to the other side of the lake. Michael had been swimming back and forth across the lake for almost twenty minutes before he heard the rustle of the leaves on the live oak behind him. He turned and the sight that greeted him took his breath.

* * * *

Andrea spurred her horse and jumped the fence at her home unaware that there was a stranger present. As her mother yelled after her, she lowered her body to the sleek gray thoroughbred and spurred Comet to run faster. Inwardly, Andi was groaning. What was her mother still doing awake? It was well after one o’clock in the afternoon, long enough for her mother to be lying down for her nap.

Let her be mad at me,
Andi thought, as she raced her horse across the pasture of the southern part of the plantation. She was frustrated. Frustrated at Ashton for being, well—Ashton. Frustrated at Alyssa for turning eighteen and not being willing to stand up to their parents. Frustrated at her parents for forcing her to marry.

Her thoughts became numb under the hypnotic noise of the horse’s pounding hooves on the sandy soil. The horse began to slow her pace when it sensed Andi loosening her grip on the reins. Comet slowed to a walk. Andi sat upright and followed the riverbank. She rode until she was at the edge of her father’s property adjacent to the Petersons’ land.

The thought of marriage to her neighbor’s nephew soured her stomach. The Petersons were a strange lot in looks and actions. Most had overly large ears with small lips and beady eyes. Their noses were all long and pointy, like beaks. In Andi’s eyes, most resembled buzzards. A shiver ran down her spine as she imagined marriage to one of those atrocious men. When they walked, they waddled like ducks. They kept to themselves mostly, and when they did socialize, they were constantly watching others like they were waiting for someone to jump out and nab them. It wouldn’t surprise her to find out they held prisoners in the root cellars of their home—poor unsuspecting souls they would perform heinous experiments on.

She turned her horse around. Leaning down, she patted the side of Comet’s neck and felt the sweat on her hand. She looked down and noticed the white foaming lather of the sweat.

“Sorry, old girl,” she apologized, patting her horse again. “We’ll walk back so you can cool down.”

Andi nudged her horse gently back towards the direction she had come. She could feel a trickle of sweat run down her brow and another down her spine. Maybe a swim in one of her ponds would help. What a splendid idea! Swimming always helped with her thoughts and frustrations. She turned Comet in the direction of her lake.

As Andi rode closer to the lake she could hear splashing. Who would be swimming in her lake? She pulled back on the reins to stop Comet. She slid down the horse and tied her off at a nearby tree next to a small stream.

Andrea cautiously made her way over to the large live oak at the back of the lake. Climbing up on the large low-hanging branches, she made her way to the water. She was taken by surprise. There was a stranger swimming in her lake! No, not just a stranger, but a man! Her cheeks began to burn with embarrassment when she noticed that he was unclothed. She turned to leave, but then a thought hit her—this must be Egbert!

An evil smile crossed her beautiful face. If she made herself appear too outspoken and brazen for this English lord, then he would refuse to have her for a bride. Last summer when she traveled to Charleston with her father, she had met several English ladies. They were all sophisticated and well behaved. None were outspoken. They were refined and elegant, with pristine, translucent complexions and sweet demeanors.

Andrea lowered her body to sit down on the low-hanging branch just above the water. She bent her knees and rolled her pant legs up exposing her firm calf and took off her shoes. Tossing her shoes to the dry bank, she allowed one leg to lower into the water. She began making noise by swirling her foot in the cool water.

* * * *

Michael watched the beautiful creature perched on the low-hanging branch. She was dressed as a boy, but her long blond hair blowing in the breeze gave away her gender. Michael watched the woman look at her foot swirling in the water. She would turn it in clockwise circles and then reverse directions. Her right knee was bent and she had her forearm resting on it with her chin cupped in her hand. She turned to face him and looked at him through her long thick lashes, smiling coyly. He sucked in his breath. She was not just beautiful, she was breathtaking. She had a heart-shaped face and high delicate cheekbones. Her wide forehead was lined with long wavy blond curls. She gave a small giggle and crinkled her small upturned nose, then licked her overly sensuous pink lips.

She said nothing as she stared at him. She was not able to speak. Never in her life had she seen a more handsome man! If this was Egbert, then he must not take after the Peterson side of the family—either that or he wasn’t
really
a Peterson. His dark brown hair was damp and clung to this square jaw. His eyes held her in place as they scanned her body, and she felt heat enter her.

Michael swam towards the pixie and stopped several feet away. Her cheeks brightened with embarrassment. He took an exasperated breath.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

Andi smiled shamelessly again. “No. Just waitin’,” she replied coyly in a thick southern drawl.

Michael looked uneasily around. “For whom?”

“For you.”

A sensual smile crossed Michael’s face. “For me? How? You don’t even know me.”

She looked deep into his eyes. Her heart fluttered as she looked into the midnight blue orbs. Licking her lips nervously, she brazenly continued, “No, I don’t. But ya see, I’ve never seen a naked man before and when I saw ya here, I just couldn’t pass up the chance.”

Michael’s look quickly changed to one of shock. “What?” he asked with agitation to his voice.

“Ya see, my sister is always tellin’ me what a naked man looks like, but I never believe her—she has a tendency ta over-exaggerate things. So when I saw ya swimmin’ in my lake I decided you would do.”

“Here now,” Michael protested with notable frustration. “I do not think that would be appropriate, especially since you have now indicated that you are an innocent.”

“Why does that make a difference, whether or not I’ve been with a man? I’m just wantin’ ta look, not touch.”

“Well, they go hand in hand.”

“Do they now?”

“Yes. So run along now, so I can continue my swim.” The impatience in his voice was clear.